Broken
by mayzee
Summary: Jane still works at the CBI but Lisbon is living a very different kind of life on the other side of the country after suffering a gruelling ordeal. A case brings them into contact again when Jane asks for her help, hoping by solving it she can banish her demons and he can find the woman he loved once again. M for both violence & sex scenes. Reviews, as ever, are much appreciated.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: So here I am again starting a new multichapter when I shouldn't as I have so many still ongoing. But I couldn't help myself start this one as it's been on my mind so much lately. It's going to be very angsty and painful in some of the upcoming chapters so just throwing that out there right away in case you want to bail out now!**

 **It's my second 'flashback'** **fic** **so there will be questions and AU events from the outset that will be answered as the story** **progresses** **so it might be a little confusing in the beginning. Hope you'll give it a chance.**

 **Past events are set mid season 5.**

 **Still with me? Okay then, buckle in and enjoy the bumpy ride ahead!**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own The Mentalist, the wonderful Bruno Heller does.**

* * *

Broken

Chapter 1 - New Lives

 _ **Present day**_

She dragged the bar towel over the dark wood table, drying beer spillage left by the last patrons. She focused on the rings that remained and scrubbed at them with more force, her chestnut waves swaying in the late afternoon breeze as she did so. She looked out the open window to her side and breathed in the sea air. Instantly she was reminded of Jane, could picture him with his shirtsleeves rolled up and his shirt open to the top button of his vest as he grinned, his head tilted so his face could feel the rays of the sun raining down on him. A smile involuntarily made its way across her features and she felt her facial muscles twitch at the unusual sensations it provided them. An accompanying sharp pain in the gut hit her simultaneously and she dropped the smile accordingly and took a sharp intake of breath instead, pulling beer mats out of the back pocket of her jeans and placing them at the four corners of the table. She picked up four empty beer bottles and threaded them through the fingers on one hand before heading back towards the bar.

"Another round over here, Teresa?" one of the regulars called to her as she passed him.

"Sure, Terry," she supplied with a well practised and false smile that never made it to her eyes. "Coming right up."

"So what do we do?" Van Pelt asked her colleagues. Although there were four others around her everyone's attention turned to Jane who was standing in the middle of the CBI bullpen looking out of the window, his hands buried deep in his pockets.

"We need her help," Van Pelt added when no one spoke.

"Do we?" Jane said after another long moment's silence. "She doesn't work here anymore, Grace. It's time to let go."

"Like you have, you mean?" she replied immediately, a bite to her words.

He turned to face her and raised an eyebrow. "And what's that supposed to mean exactly?"

"Nothing," she added with a shrug as she looked away from his penetrating gaze.

"I tried to reach out to her months ago. From her non-response, she's moved on. We should let her get on with her new life. It's obviously what she wants." He paused and sighed as he looked out the window again. "It might even be what she needs."

"You okay, Teresa?" Mike Stoppard asked as Lisbon pulled a beer from the tap in front of her.

"Yeah. Why?" she asked her boss.

"Because for a second there, you looked happy when you wiped the dregs from that table over there."

She rolled her eyes and dropped the glass of beer onto a tray before pulling another one. "What's not to love about this job, Mike? Cleaning up after a bunch of guys who drink here in the afternoon instead of working for a living? It's a real treat," she smirked.

Her boss, a man in his late fifties with a gleaming bald head, laughed and shook his head. "One of these days you'll give me a straight answer," he said.

"I don't recall you asking me a question," she replied with more warmth, enjoying the sparring they sometimes participated in.

"If you didn't tell me you used to be a cop I'd swear you were a con artist with your evasiveness."

For the second time in minutes, she was reminded of her former consultant and her smile fell once again.

* * *

"Van Pelt was right earlier," Cho said to Jane after calling him into his office.

Jane stood facing him and shrugged. Even a year after she'd left it still felt like Lisbon's office and not Cho's. Cho himself hadn't moved into it until four months after he'd officially been promoted to team leader and only when the higher ups had insisted on him taking up residence there.

"If you think so then call her, I'm not stopping you," Jane replied.

Cho leant back in his chair. "I already did two days ago. She didn't answer."

Jane shrugged again. "Like I said before then...she's done with this life."

"You could talk her into coming back."

Jane shook his head and smiled faintly. "You overestimate the power of my persuasiveness, Kimball."

Cho shook his head. "No, I don't. Unless you're too afraid to face her."

Jane smiled. "You'll have to do better than use that reverse psychology crap on me, my friend."

"Okay. She was right, you were wrong. We know that for sure now. How about that?" his boss said.

After a long moment, Jane clicked his tongue. "Yeah. I guess that'll do."

* * *

Lisbon checked the inventory as a delivery of spirits and beer was unloaded in front of her at the back of the bar she worked in. The Green Swan had been her workplace for almost four months now. Located in Maine, the sleepy oceanfront town of Brentwood bore no resemblance to Chicago or Sacramento, bustling cities she'd spent her life in until she took up residence here. Here life was quiet and mostly mundane, the town only coming to life when fish were caught easily and pockets were full or a tour bus was diverted from larger towns in the area due to road closures or bad weather. She'd chosen it - or, perhaps more correctly, it had chosen her - for the simplicity of life it had offered. It was only when she'd stayed here for a week she'd realised the other reason it had appealed to her. The smell of the sea in the air and the views from the bar she now worked in that looked over the bay reminded her of Jane. She'd naturally noticed the effect the deep blue always had on him when they worked cases close to the Pacific on the other side of the country. It was impossible not to, after all.

He always seemed lighter and happier when he was by the sea as if it gave him a semblance of peace and seeped some of the anger and guilt from his bones. She supposed somewhere in her psyche she wanted it to do the same for her - to cleanse some of the shame and guilt she felt over decisions she'd made and situations she'd found herself in over the past year or so. She wasn't sure how far long that process she was but how she lived her life here was tranquil and calm. She'd still wake up in sweat-drenched nightmares scraping her nails over her arms and legs at least once a week but the days, at least, were better. She hoped, in time, the nights would be too.

So she lived a quiet life, had her routines and had even acquired a few acquaintances. It wouldn't have felt right to call them friends, she'd run out of those when she'd left Sacramento. She gave nothing of her true self away, of course, and settled into being the calm and serene one in company. Sometimes she laughed inwardly at that, once she would have never imagined the words serene and Teresa Lisbon belonging in the same sentence together.

The anger she felt, on the other hand, was buried so deep inside her by now she hardly felt it at all any longer. When it welled up inside her she swallowed it down, further and further and deeper and deeper until nothingness took its place. It was better this way, she told herself, there was too much of it to allow even a smidgen to be released in fury, and she was always fearful of the pressure valve inside her releasing the rest of it at the same time if she did.

Often she wondered what Jane would think of how she lived her life now. Would he mock her? Call her out and tell her she was feeding herself a line of bull? Press her so hard she revealed who she used to be again? Would he make it his business to release the anger inside her? Or would he just look at her with those beautiful sad and hurt eyes? Would he be angry with her? Feel sorry for her?

She wondered occasionally if living here was a punishment to herself too, especially on the days her heart ached for the life she once had, of the person she had been once. A way of forever reminding her of the life she'd walked away from. Of the man she'd walked away from. That being unable to cut that tie she'd settled here instead, a place where he'd most probably like and that made her feel close to him still. She went through cycles of wanting to feel that connection to irrationally hating him for the exact same thing. Though she barely acknowledged to herself how much she missed him in the light of day. Normally it was when she awoke in the middle of the night did her thoughts sometimes turn to such things. Only then did she allow herself to close her eyes and picture his face as she soothed herself back to sleep by trailing fingertips gently over her bare skin, moving lower and making deeper passes until her eyes fluttered under closed eyelids and she moaned. Until she found a temporary release from the anger and the nightmares as she imagined the soft strokes she provided came from him instead.

She closed then opened her eyes and took a breath as she concentrated on the docket in her hands and checked off the delivery, turning her thoughts away from him.

* * *

Jane picked up the nondescript beige sedan at the airport and began the five-hour drive to Brentwood. He'd never been to Maine and had to admit it was a beautiful part of the world as he stopped off at quaint little villages for bathroom breaks and snacks. Certainly, at this time of the year it was, winters he imagined were much harsher. But currently Spring was in full bloom and he smiled as he finally saw the sign for the town Lisbon now resided. It was early evening when he arrived at a small B&B he'd booked himself into. He'd already driven around the town to get his bearings and had found the bar she worked in. A shower later he was ravenous and wanted to try the lobster naturally, the speciality of the region. He'd kept his mind busy and away from thoughts of seeing her again and of the reception she might give him. He hadn't called ahead for fear she'd flee before he had a chance to talk to her. But now as he dressed in a three-piece suit and fixed his hair his hunger was rapidly being replaced by nervousness instead. He glanced at his bare wedding ring finger in his reflection, still somewhat strange when he noticed it though it had left his finger three months prior.

He left the car at the B&B and strolled down the path towards the bar. Dusk was approaching and he saw coloured fairy lights switched on outside around the decked terrace as he made it to the parking lot. Only a few vehicles were present and looking through the windows inside appeared quiet too. The jukebox inside quietly played some soft rock tune he couldn't identify as he walked inside. A large fireplace sat unlit at one end of the expansive room and picture windows framed the sea view outside. Dark wooden tables and chairs were strewn inside along with some bench seating for larger crowds. Even though the fire wasn't lit it felt homely and welcoming with its slated floors and a grey brick interior dotted with seascapes. He searched for her immediately but there was no sign of her behind the bar. A rounded baldheaded man waved to him and told him to take a seat with a smile. Jane sat on a barstool and waited for service.

After pouring a beer for what appeared to be a regular by the ribbing about some sports team, the larger man asked him, "You get lost?"

Jane frowned and shook his head. "I don't think so. Why do you ask?"

He pointed to Jane's suit. "Well, you're sure not from here, mister," he laughed. "Thought you must be a tourist who took the wrong turnoff."

Jane smiled at the other man and glanced around the room again. He did look out of place, everyone in the bar wore chunky sweaters and jeans but him.

"Just don't tell me you're from the IRS."

Jane laughed, warming to this man instantly. "No, I'm not. But you're close. My name's Patrick, nice to meet you."

They shook hands. "Mike. What can I get you, Patrick?"

"I don't suppose you serve hot tea here, do you?"

Mike frowned and then smirked. "You don't think a fine establishment like this would serve tea?"

"I don't imagine there's much call for it."

Mike laughed and nodded, "You're right about that. Apart from when the Knitting Circle have their monthly meetings here. And then it's just the cups and saucers they use so they appear more refined than they actually are. More whisky than tea if you know what I mean."

Jane laughed. The man was a natural storyteller and perfect host in his choice of profession.

"What kind would you like?" Mike asked him.

"I don't suppose you have Oolong, do you?" It was meant as a tease more than a straight request.

"We do, actually. Well, when I say we...it's my employee's stash but I'm sure she won't mind a couple of teabags going to a man in need."

Jane blinked quickly when Lisbon had unexpectantly been brought into the conversation. "You sure she wouldn't mind?" he asked evenly, calming his heart rate.

"Teresa? Nah, she's good as gold. Even if she did mind she'd never say anything."

Jane frowned, confused. This hardly sounded like Teresa Lisbon at all. "You sure about that?" he had to ask again.

Mike laughed and nodded to the door. "Well you can always ask her yourself, she's about to start her shift."

Jane swung round in his bar stool and stood up when he saw her at the door with her mouth hanging open. She'd evidently been watching him for a second or two. She was dressed in a pair of blue jeans and a white tight fitting sweater under a black leather jacket. Her hair was tied back in a loose ponytail, a few strands of which had come loose that hung around her ears. She was breathtaking to him in its most literal sense as he found it hard to take a breath and could barely think never mind read her. They locked eyes and he saw her swallow. He didn't move and neither did she for a long moment. He was afraid if he did she'd turn and run right back out the door again.

Her boss interrupted the silence between them. "Hey Teresa, you mind this guy having some of your tea?" he said absently as he placed some money in a till as he turned his back on Jane. He'd been busy serving another customer and had paid little attention to the charged atmosphere suddenly present between this stranger and his employee.

Lisbon blinked first and took a breath as she walked towards Jane. "Hey," she said quietly when she came face to face with him.

"Hey yourself," he replied softly with a small smile.

* * *

 **A/N: Not sure when I'll be updating again but just wanted to get the first chapter out there. Hopefully not too long. The flashback scenes will begin shortly. Just FYI the town of Brentwood is purely from my own imagination.**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: First of all, a great big thank you for all the lovely comments on the first chapter. It's always a little nerve wrecking starting a new story ( & this one especially so) so I really do appreciate them. And secondly, just to remind you that this is an M rated story so there will be some painful (along with some sexy!) scenes in some of the upcoming chapters. Thanks again and without further ado here's the next chapter.**

* * *

Chapter 2 - Fear

 _ **Sacramento.**_

 _ **13 months earlier.**_

"So you coming or not?" Lisbon asked as she stood over Jane lying on his brown leather couch in the CBI bullpen with his eyes closed.

"Hmm," he responded lazily with neither movement nor a glance in her direction. "Do I want to investigate a dusty warehouse at the docks where there may or may not be a dead body or stay here cushioned in soft leather at ten at night? Let me ponder on that for a moment, Lisbon," he smiled.

"Suit yourself," she said brightly with a roll of her eyes before turning to Cho. "Cho, you're with me. Let's go."

"Have fun!" Jane yawned as he pushed his back further into the leather and sighed contentedly. "If it's an interesting one give me a call," he shouted after them.

* * *

Lisbon and Cho arrived at the warehouse and drew their weapons quietly. An anonymous tip had come through to their office that a body had been discovered inside and, as Sac PD was covering a Town Hall event the mayor was attending, they were short staffed to offer assistance. Rigsby and Van Pelt were at another crime scene and Lisbon's team had already worked a sixteen-hour shift.

The building was bathed in darkness and they removed their torches to find the entrance as they listened carefully for sounds inside. Finding a red metal door they edged closer to it silently. Already open, it banged against the door frame loudly as a gust of wind howled through the night air, the sound immediately making them raise their weapons sharply in front of them. Cho nodded to Lisbon and covered her as she entered first. Hearing nothing she found the light switch just inside and flipped it on. Suddenly the vast room lit up like the Fourth of July as fluorescent tube lighting flickered noisily overhead before coming on. Blinking to adjust their eyes quickly they scanned the area.

"Nothing," Lisbon said to Cho behind her as she looked around, putting her torch away. Apart from packing boxes that lay scattered against the walls the entire room was empty.

He nodded. "Probably kids with nothing better to do on a Thursday night," he offered.

She pointed to a closed door at the other end of the room. "Looks like an office, I'll check it out. You go outside and take another look around just in case. Then we'll get out of here."

"Okay, boss," he replied as he turned around and went out the same door he came in.

* * *

Cho came back ten minutes later having found nothing untoward as he'd circled the building on foot. "Lisbon?" he called out as he walked towards the door she'd been heading to investigate.

Entering the office he frowned as he took a look around. It was no more than a ten by ten feet room but there was no sign of her inside, just a dusty desk, and some filing cabinets. "Boss?" he called again as he opened a large storage cupboard. "Where the hell did you go?" he said to himself, looking around the room again.

* * *

Fifteen minutes later Jane arrived at the scene and quickly came to find him. "What the hell happened?" he asked Cho, staring at him hard.

Cho shook his head as he looked around the office. "You tell me. She wasn't here when I came back in. Circled back around the property twice but there's no sign of her. Her phone's off. Van Pelt's back at the office, going to get the last location on it." His cell phone sounded and he fished it out of his pocket. After speaking for less than thirty seconds he shook his head at Jane. "Last location is here. Then it cut out."

"You sure there was no one here when you arrived?" Jane said as he paced as much as he could in the small room, scrutinising every inch of the place with his eyes.

"Not outside. But it's possible someone was lying in wait in here. Shuffled her out when I was at the back of the property."

Jane nodded and took a breath. It seemed the only logical explanation.

"She would have cried out, though, struggled. And if they had a vehicle I'd have heard it," Cho added.

"If you were all the way at the back you most probably wouldn't have," Jane said with a deep sigh. "Highway is at the back. Likely traffic noise would have drowned out the sound of a car out front. Or they could have taken her by boat. But you're right about struggling. No way Lisbon goes out of here without a fight. Unless-"

"She was knocked out before she saw it coming," Cho finished for him with a grimace.

Jane nodded, closing his eyes, afraid to think through the possibilities of what was happening to her right now.

* * *

She woke up lying on her back in pitch black with a pounding headache. An eye mask of some sort had been placed over her eyes and groggily she went to move her hand to remove it and found she could not. A restraint pinned down her right wrist. When she went to lift her other hand it was similarly shackled to what felt like some kind of operating table if the cold metal she felt against her fingers was anything to go by. Her heart sped up and she pulled at her ankles only to find them bound too. "Oh dear god," she said, the words and her ragged breaths echoing around the room. "Hello?" she shouted but only silence greeted her in return. After fruitlessly struggling to break free for what felt like an eternity but was probably no more than ten minutes she lay there in the dark and silently recited the Lord's Prayer while telling herself she needed to reserve her energy for what may lie ahead.

Suddenly she was awake again as someone pulled at the arm of the blouse she wore and rolled it up to her elbow. She guessed she must have a concussion to have fallen asleep in this predicament at all. "What are you doing?" she croaked through dry cracked lips, attempting to pull from this person's grasp. She shook her head to rid herself of the mask but it steadfastly stayed over her eyes. Her cop instincts automatically tuned to what she could sense without her sight. A man's firm hand over her left arm. She tried to breathe in to identify cologne or some other smell present but when she felt him tap two broad fingers to find a vein panic began to set in instead. "What are you doing?! You don't have to do this!" she said breathlessly, though having no actual idea what was about to happen. She tried to calm her tone so it sounded more reasonable, to cut through the panic that was racing through her. "Let's just talk about this. We can do that, right? Just talk for a minute first." A range of horrific options ran through her brain from organ removal to simply sedating her to move her elsewhere. "Just talk to me, damn it!" she yelled at the top of her lungs desperately trying to pull her arm away when he didn't speak and kept tapping at her arm. At least at this moment, she was awake, and she could try to reason with whoever this was if he'd only engage in conversation. If she was unconscious then she'd lose any chance of talking herself out of what was about to happen. She felt the tip of a needle pierce her skin and closed her eyes in defeat, realising it was impossible to stop whatever would take place from this point on. He plunged the needle into her vein.

* * *

 _ **Brentwood, Maine.**_

 _ **Present day.**_

"Teresa?" Mike said as he watched her from the doorway to the kitchen area of the bar.

"Yeah," she said evenly without looking at him as she took out cups and saucers from the cupboard in front of her. Her shaking hands betrayed her and they made a rattling sound as she went to put them on a tray. He stepped forward quickly, taking them off her and settling them on it instead. "Don't break my china on me," he joked. "Those cups cost $2, you know," he added with a concerned smile.

"Sorry," she said distractedly as she turned to the kettle.

"Let me do that," he said softly. "Don't want you suing me for scalding yourself into the bargain."

She fidgeted with her hands for a second as he spoke again. "So...something tells me that the man who wants some of your Oolong isn't a stranger."

He put the boiled water into a teapot and stared at her for a response.

"Yeah, I know him," she sighed, shrugging and placing tea bags into the pot after him.

"Guessed that when you darted away quicker than a rabbit with a shotgun to its head to make his tea. From when you were a cop, I assume?"

"Yeah."

He nodded slowly before he fixed her with a hard gaze again. "Look, Teresa, I know...well I know something happened to you when you were a cop-"

Panic stricken eyes shot to his, "What do you know about it?" she asked defensively.

He laughed softly and shook his head. "Specifically? Nothing at all. That would actually involve you talking to me about something more than the weather, sports or betting on how many fish Charlie Peterson would catch in a day."

She relaxed her shoulders, shamefaced she wasn't capable of sharing more with this kind man who'd taken her under his wing. "Mike," she whispered. "Don't-"

"Ask? I haven't until now, have I?"

"And I've appreciated that. That you don't pry. That you just...let me be."

"Okay. I'm not asking you what happened that made you turn your back on being a cop but...does it have anything to do with that man out there?"

She pondered the question then shook her head. "No."

He seemed uncertain of her response and narrowed his eyes at her. "Are you sure? Because if he's some sort of abusive husband or boyfriend that you ran away from I'll kick his ass-"

Her snort of a laugh stopped him mid flow. "You think he beat me up? _Him_?" she said as she nodded to the bar area behind her. A smirk came to her lips that eased the tension she'd felt since seeing Jane again.

"I'm on the wrong track, huh?" Mike said.

She laughed and noticed his surprise by it. It was probably one of the few times he'd seen her laugh genuinely. "Mike, believe me, if you knew me when I was a cop then you'd find the thought of me getting beaten up by that man out there utterly hilarious."

"All right then. Fair enough. But still...you looked frightened to face him."

She took a breath. "It's...complicated. Awkward. But...but I do have to talk to him. The truth is I owe him that and have done for a while."

* * *

Jane leant over the wooden balustrade on the terrace of The Green Swan and surveyed the fishing vessels in the distance, just about visible as night claimed day. He pulled his black woollen coat around him, pleased he'd had the foresight to bring it across country as a chill went through him.

"Your tea," Lisbon said to his back and he heard the clatter of china hit a table behind him. As he turned she pushed a timer switch to her right and a heating lamp came on overhead. She drew a long grey cardigan around her and poured tea into two cups before taking a seat and looking to the one opposite her expectantly.

Jane studied her for a moment as she took the first sip and watched her lick her lips quickly afterwards as she looked at the empty chair.

"Why The Green Swan?" he asked conversationally as he sat down.

She frowned as he relaxed his expression into one of a man at ease as he looked at her. Then she smiled faintly as she remembered how he operated. He'd opened the conversation like he normally did interrogations, a preposterous question to unnerve a suspect. "What?"

He gesticulated to a sign behind her bearing a painted picture of a green swan. "Why the name? Doesn't make any sense. You've worked here for what...four months now and you never thought to ask?"

"That's the first question you have for me?" she asked as she took another sip of tea.

He shrugged. "Figured I'd start out with the easy stuff first."

She nodded and pulled her cardigan around her.

"You cold? You want to go inside?" he asked.

"No, I'm fine," she said. She took a breath. "Why are you here, Jane?"

"I'll get to that. How are you?"

She made a noncommittal noise. "I'm fine. You?"

"Oh I'm fine too," he replied, with some amusement and a little anger in his tone.

"Good," she said, ignoring the darker undercurrent to his voice.

"Then I guess we're all caught up," he said with a roll of his eyes.

As he went to take a sip of tea she noticed he no longer wore his wedding ring and her mouth dropped open as she lifted her own cup. Their eyes met and his flitted briefly to his hand. "It was time," he explained with a shrug.

She nodded, unsure of what to say on the matter. "Are you still with the CBI?"

"I am." He paused as he took another sip. "You surprised?"

"Uh...a little, I guess-"

"Did you imagine I'd come here to find you instead?" This time, there was no mistake to the bite in his tone. He took a breath and shook his head. "Sorry," he said as he uncharacteristically ran a hand down his face. "It's...it's unsettling seeing you again after all this time."

"For me too. At least you knew you were coming here. It's...it's quite a shock to see you out of the blue like this. I wasn't even aware you knew where I was."

"You left, Lisbon. You didn't join the Witness Protection Program or buy yourself a secret identity. Hardly difficult to track you down. And I would have called first but since you never answer your phone to any one of us anymore there was no point, was there?"

"I had to get away, Jane. I'm sorry-"

"You don't have to apologise for that, Lisbon. I...I always understood why you felt you had to leave. At the time I thought it might be best for you too. That a change of scenery for a while might do you some good. But you said you'd come back. When you were ready you said you'd come back. Then I discover you've been living here for four months, that you have a job as a bartender of all things-"

"What's wrong with bartending?"

"Nothing at all but it's not the career for you, Lisbon. What I'm saying is that you don't exactly appear to be someone who has any intention of coming back to Sacramento. It would have been nice if you'd been honest about that if that was always your plan."

She looked into her tea and nodded. Most of what he'd said was true so she couldn't refute it and though he'd tried to hide it she heard the hurt in his voice. "I intended to come back. To begin with, I thought I would but..." she licked her lips, "but then I decided not to."

Her green eyes shone at him as she continued. "I'm sorry if I hurt you...but..." she waved her hand around the terrace. "But I need this as my life now, Jane. I'm sorry I never had the guts to come and tell you that but I'm telling you that now. So I need you to go back to Sacramento and forget about me and live your life. You deserve a fresh start just like me."

He blinked as he stared into her eyes. A beat passed. "A fresh start? Is that what you call this place? Seriously?"

"It is-"

"No, it's not. It's a hiding place. It's somewhere you can live where you don't have to be you. Where you can pretend you're someone else."

A shot of anger flared through her. "God damn it, Jane! Don't you get it?! I am someone else now!"

The first flicker of rage she felt in months terrified her and she took a breath to control herself from it unravelling her. Quickly she rose noisily from the chair as it made a scraping sound across the wooden deck before running back inside, grabbing her jacket and bolting towards the front door. Jane, reading her intentions, ran around the terrace and bounded steps towards the parking lot. He looked for a vehicle leaving but saw her at a bike rack there instead, jiggling at a lock.

"You ride a bike to work?" he said in amusement as she continued to fight with the lock. Then humour in the situation vanished when he saw her hands were shaking and she was close to tears as she pretended to ignore him. He placed his hands on hers and felt how cold they were. "Let me do that," he said softly, gently rubbing them before releasing them and crouching down to look at the lock. "If you intend to run away from me I might as well make it easier for you," he smiled.

"The combination-" she started.

"Your mother's birthday just like your locker at the CBI, I presume," he answered for her. He quickly entered it. "Et voila!" he stated as he got to his feet and pushed the bicycle towards her but held the handlebars in his hands.

"I never knew you knew my locker combination. Why on earth would you want to know that?"

He shrugged and smiled. "I've always wanted to know everything about you from the first moment I met you."

Her expression one of disbelief, he added, "Now, do you still want to run away from me or can we start this again?"


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3 - Fear & Familiarisation

 _ **Sacramento.**_

 _ **13 months earlier.**_

"So there's no ransom demand, no trace of what happened to her?" Bertram's voice boomed in the CBI bullpen.

Cho, Rigsby, Van Pelt were at their desks while Jane sat on his couch, his right leg shaking as he bounced on his toes. He stared ahead and not at the Director, his face set in a thoughtful frown.

"No, sir," Cho responded. "Six hours and nothing. Checked traffic cams in the area but nothing out of the ordinary."

"What about this warehouse you and Lisbon were lured to?"

"It foreclosed about a year ago. Bank owns it now. No leads."

Bertram's eyes widened. "Well that's not good enough, agents," he pronounced grandly to the rest of the room. "We have to assume this is some sort of revenge for someone she's put behind bars. You need to begin by sifting through previous cases Lisbon has handled-"

"You think that's not what we're doing already? You coming here to tell us our jobs is a waste of time," Jane cut in. "Why don't you leave us to it and you look after the press angle. They're the only reason you're concerned with her disappearance at all. Having an agent going missing on your watch when you were busy kowtowing to the mayor isn't the front page spread you want tomorrow, is it Gale?"

Bertram took a few steps towards Jane and tilted his head to the side. Jane locked eyes with him, daring the other man to contradict him. After a long moment, Bertram looked consolingly at him with more than a hint of condescension and nodded slightly. "Patrick, I understand you're feeling a certain amount of strain right now so I'll let that remark go," he said smoothly.

Jane raised an eyebrow in defiance back at him. "Yeah, why don't you do that," he replied with annoyance while shooting him a dirty look.

Bertram regarded Jane and a small smile formed across his lips. "What about Red John? You think he might have something to do with this?"

Those words caught Jane's attention again and he eyed Bertram with a firm gaze. "Why would you say that?"

Bertram shrugged. "Well...perhaps revenge for Lorelei Martins," he said with a smirk.

"In what way?" Jane asked evenly.

"She escaped from a high-security prison. He may have...mistakenly, of course...thought that you assisted her with that. Perhaps instead of her kidnapping you, he believes the opposite was, in fact, true. Perhaps while you two were alone overnight and getting reacquainted with each other again he imagines she may have told you some information she shouldn't have as to his identity. Perhaps he wants to ascertain if you told Lisbon that information. After all, Patrick, it's no secret that you and Lisbon are close. If there's anyone you'd confide in, it'd be her."

"What are you intimating?" he asked with barely concealed hostility.

Bertram shrugged, "Nothing at all, of course. I know your relationship with Lisbon is beyond reproach. But Red John...on the other hand-"

Jane got to his feet to face the other man. He bore down on him. "Red John knows me well enough to know I'd never put her in danger by telling her something I may or may not know."

"And yet, here we are," Bertram said with a wave of his hand. A final blow dealt he left the bullpen, barking orders to Cho to keep him updated.

"What the hell was that about?" Rigsby said. "You think this is Red John? You think he took her?" he asked Jane.

Jane sat back on his couch again and pondered Bertram's words. Was he just baiting Jane into an argument or was there another hidden meaning behind them? Had Bertram just delivered a thinly veiled message from Red John as to Lisbon's fate and why she'd been taken? Had Jane himself endangered her further by facilitating Lorelei Martins' escape and confiding in her?

He'd already considered it plausible that Red John had abducted her but had pushed that particular scenario to the back of his mind, refusing to focus on it and filling his thoughts with more tangible suspects that he could interrogate and manipulate instead.

Allowing himself to believe Red John had taken her was his worst fear. It meant he was hopeless and incapable of helping her. It meant he was ineffective and impotent. It only led to horror, devastation, and death. But now it was all he could imagine as other suspects faded away from his thoughts.

Now all he could picture was her chained alone and desperate as a knife was plunged repeatedly into flesh until there was nothing of her left.

* * *

 _ **Brentwood, Maine.**_

 _ **Present Day.**_

Lisbon wrenched the bicycle from Jane's grasp and put her hands on the handlebars. "Tell me why you're here."

They were standing under a street lamp that overlooked the parking lot and for the first time since he'd seen her again, he could clearly see the green of her eyes at close quarters. He blinked twice and read her posture swiftly. Defensive and suspicious. But apart from that he could read nothing in her eyes. He blinked again, wholly unsettled by that fact.

They were his best and most favourite means of reading her. Her body language gave him the big answers to her mood - whether she was feeling playful or pigheaded, flirty or frosty. But her eyes gave him the final piece of the puzzle. They told him everything she didn't say. They told him about the fear behind the bravery she showed to the world, the passion hidden behind a particular smile. They told him who she was, her past and present, and sometimes her hopes and dreams for the future.

For years their eyes had been their shorthand in communicating when they couldn't or wouldn't find the right words vocally. Neither one of them was particularly good at sharing their innermost feelings but somehow they'd invented this secret language they only allowed the other to see. Not all the time, but on occasion they'd share a look that told each other everything, where they dropped their everyday pretences. In those silent moments, he felt like oxygen had been breathed back into him, fortifying him to continue to take breaths of his own as he journeyed on in his crusade.

In those moments he felt alive and safe.

Warm and loved.

Afraid.

Put simply he _felt_.

Now suddenly she was speaking in a language he didn't understand. Or, more correctly, she wasn't speaking in one at all.

"Jane?" she said, grabbing his attention and pulling him out of his thoughts.

He swallowed thickly. "I hear the lobster's good here. I'm sure you know the best place I can get some. Let's grab dinner and I'll tell you."

"Jane," she said again. "You didn't come here to eat lobster. Besides, I'm supposed to be working."

"Mike will give you the night off. He probably already has."

She stammered, "Well, yes, but that's not the point-"

"Lisbon, I'm only here for one night," he said with some anger as he became increasingly frustrated. "I think I deserve more than a five-minute conversation with you after all these years of knowing each other, don't you? I'll be out of your life again come morning if that's what you want." He softened his tone as he took a breath. "Let's just have some dinner, Teresa. Please."

"Okay," she said as she looked away from him. "Do you have a car? Best place for lobster's a couple of miles away."

They strolled back up the road to get Jane's hire car from the guesthouse he was staying at, Lisbon pushing the bike alongside her. As they got to it Lisbon said, "You staying at Mrs. Marshall's then?"

"Yeah, she seems okay if a bit on the nosey side. Suppose everyone knows everyone around here."

"Pretty much. You'll be the talk of the town come tomorrow. Which room did she give you?"

"Talk of the town, eh? Well, I'm used to that," he smiled. "The room at the back with the terrace that looks onto the ocean. It's very nice."

"She must like you, then," Lisbon said as Jane popped his trunk and they secured the bike inside.

"Oh? Why so?" he asked as they took the two front seats in the car with Jane at the wheel.

"She only gives that room to the people she likes." She smirked faintly. "I'd lock your door tonight if I were you."

He smiled widely but shot her a panicked frown. "Hmm, I got the feeling she was being a little over friendly earlier when she gave me some fresh towels. Thanks for the warning."

"Pleasure," she smiled as she looked out the side window. "Joe's is about two miles down this road, take a left at the bar and keep going."

* * *

As they arrived at the destination, a faded white shack on the periphery of a rocky outcrop that overlooked the sea Jane frowned at her. " _This_ is the best place to get lobster?"

"Yes," she told him as she opened the creaking wooden door. Inside was set out in much the same style as a train with bench seating at opposite sides and a small counter where food was delivered to the waiting staff. Curtains adorned with what were probably once vividly painted yachts covered the fake porthole windows. "I think this place could do with a little sprucing up," Jane whispered at her back as they waited for the waitress who was serving another table.

"Shush," she said as a woman in her early twenties approached them with a smile. She looked from Lisbon to Jane and then back to Lisbon, shooting her a questioning look. Lisbon blushed briefly and shook her head at her before she seated them in a booth that looked over the water. "Thanks, Laurie," Lisbon said as she set menus down in front of them.

"No problem," Laurie replied, smiling at Lisbon before grinning seductively at Jane.

"Are there no men in this town or something?" he asked her when the waitress had retreated into the kitchen.

"Not enough of them for her," Lisbon shot back with a roll of her eyes. "You're new so she's interested. Maybe she thinks you have money."

"I'll try not be offended by that remark even if I am old enough to be her father." He laughed softly. "She seemed surprised you'd brought me here, though."

Lisbon perused her menu and replied evenly without looking in his direction, "Is that your way of asking me if I've been dating while I've been here?"

"I suppose it is," he said after a beat.

The shock of that admission made her look at him. He smiled at her with a shrug in return. "Surprised I said that?"

"Yeah," she said, frowning, "that was..."

"Honest? Open?"

She placed her menu on the table and narrowed her eyes at him. "You've changed."

"So have you."

She began looking at her menu again for something to do. "Yeah, but you've changed...for the better, it seems."

"Have I? That leads me to believe you think you haven't."

She closed her eyes briefly and sat back against the wooden slats of the booth. "So that was just your way of getting me to talk about myself? Was that why you just said that?"

He exhaled loudly. "Maybe I just wanted to find out if you're dating anyone here, Teresa."

"What would that matter? Especially since you're leaving tomorrow."

He chuckled without humour and he shook his head as he picked up his own menu again. "I suppose it wouldn't," he sighed.

"I'm not dating anyone, Jane," she said quietly as she picked up her own. "I haven't since-"

"What can I get ya?" Laurie asked as she bounced back to them with a beaming smile.

She took their orders and they steered the conversation to safer matters. At Jane's questioning, Lisbon informed him of the history of the restaurant and why it was the best place for lobster and shellfish in general, a local secret kept away from the tourists that visited at weekends or in Summer. It turned out the chef and owner's brother was the top fisherman in the area. Jane listened attentively, enjoying seeing her with less of a guard up since he'd arrived as she recounted this and other stories of the area she'd no doubt picked up at the bar she worked in. It was small talk and they both knew it but it allowed them to share a meal without adding to the tense atmosphere between them. _Baby steps_ , Jane reminded himself as she talked about weekly poker nights at The Green Swan.

As Jane was served his lobster and Lisbon her soft shell crab cakes she asked, "So, how are the team?"

"Good. Cho's at the helm now as you probably already know."

She nodded and smiled. "I'm pleased for him. How's he doing?"

"Oh, much the same. Tough but fair. Monosyllabic."

She laughed softly and he grinned in response. "That was nice to see," he said gently.

She blushed, dropped the smile and ate a forkful of food. "And Wayne and Grace?"

"They're dating again. So...there are soulful looks aplenty across the bullpen. And the odd lovers' tiff to mix things up. Especially when she smells tacos on him."

She laughed softly. "They changed the policy about co-workers dating, then?" she asked.

"Yeah, a while back. They were back on with each other within about forty-eight hours," he laughed.

"I'm surprised it took them that long." She looked wistfully across the table at him. "I'm glad for them, though. That they found happiness with each other again."

"Me too," he replied as his eyes instinctively went to her lips.

When he saw panic set in her features he drew them away and changed the subject as he broke off a lobster claw. After clearing his throat he said, "Actually, we have a new agent in charge since you worked there. Eloise Hudson."

"Oh? I...I don't think I know her. What's her background?"

"FBI organized crime. Made the leap across to the CBI to head up the division after...well after Bertram..."

"Right," she said with a nod of understanding. A beat passed. "So what's she like? Do you like her?"

He nodded as he swallowed some food. "I do. She reminds me a little of Hightower." He smirked, "Just whiter and blonder, about the same age. Less of a tough taskmaster where procedure is involved, though. Gives me free rein most of the time."

Lisbon raised an eyebrow. "Wow, she sounds like your dream boss. No wonder you're still there."

"Yeah, maybe she is. Haven't decided yet. And...well I need something to fill my time."

"I suppose so," she said as she glanced quickly at him while he pushed a piece of lobster into a pot of sauce. "I'm guessing poor Cho has to do the paperwork on you now, though, not her."

He grinned as he looked up and swallowed down his food quickly, "He told me the other month he had a new appreciation for all the crap you used to put up with."

She smiled and Jane, finally, saw what he hadn't until then. He could see it in her eyes - how much she missed her team, the camaraderie they shared, maybe even the work...and she definitely missed him. Just a flicker before she pushed it down again but he knew it was there. He smiled inwardly. Agent Teresa Lisbon was still in there somewhere.

* * *

After the plates were cleared he saw her, nervous again at what was about to come out of his lips next. While dinner conversation had given them a chance to briefly catch up with each other she knew there was more to this visit than just that. They'd discussed all they could discuss before they hit brick walls that were too painful or awkward to plough through and talk had dwindled to them discussing winter storms in Maine.

"So, you ready to tell me why you're here yet?" she asked as she took a deep breath as the silence became too uncomfortable for her to bear.

Jane nodded and gnawed on his bottom lip. He licked his lips and sighed. "I came here to tell you two things. Firstly, you were right."

She frowned. "What about?"

"About...about what happened to you. You were right. It wasn't Red John."

She blinked and reached quickly for the glass of water at her side, taking a huge gulp of it as she paled. He watched as she pulled her cardigan around her body, almost possible to see a cold chill running through her. She said nothing except nodding so he continued.

"I was wrong, Teresa. So wrong about that. I couldn't...I couldn't see anything but him back then. I wouldn't listen. I'm...I'm sorry."

She nodded slowly and her hands shook as she reached for the glass again. His eyes flew to them and he reached out to hold them but she pulled them away and brought them around her body again instead. She'd put a mask on again and was unreadable to him. "I'm sorry," he said again. "I should have-"

"What's the second thing?" she interjected, the words spilling out quickly.

He took another deep breath. "Well, it's how I know the first. The person...the person who did what they did to you...well it's happened again, Teresa. To another woman four days ago. And since Red John has been dead for months now-"

"It means whoever actually did it is still out there," she finished for him in a whisper.

* * *

 **A/N: So confused? Yes?...a little? Good. But at least we now have the basis of the timeline for when this AU broke off. Thanks again for all the lovely comments, probably wouldn't be still writing for this show if people weren't interested so I'm mightily pleased so many of you are!**


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4 – Under Her Skin

 _ **Sacramento.**_

 _ **13 months earlier.**_

After the needle, she'd expected to pass out.

She'd expected to experience oblivion.

Instead, her eyes sprang open beneath the mask she wore. She took a sharp intake of breath as her heart raced. She could feel her blood rush through her veins as it mixed with whatever was in that syringe. She could almost hear it. Only vaguely aware, she felt the pressure of a hand on her arm be released and heard a door to her left open and close while a man's footsteps retreated.

She breathed quickly.

In and out.

In and out.

A fleeting memory of Jane telling someone to do the same as he stared into their eyes and then it was gone again in a flash, impossible to focus on and slow it down. Unlike his steady and soft tone as he said the words hers were set at fast forward and high pitched in her brain.

She had no thought to calm down. No thought to compose herself. No thought to think much at all or at least not in any rational way. She had little concept of time but in what seemed like less than a second later she caught her breath and breathed out slowly as her body relaxed from the rigid tenseness it was in before this moment. She blinked, now unconcerned she could see nothing but black. It didn't scare her anymore. Instead the dark felt like comforting velvet on her eyelashes. She frowned but with no feeling of despair riding alongside it, just curious to find the word to describe how she felt. She grappled for it but it was too far out of reach, residing in the dark recesses of her comprehension to grasp immediately. It must have taken her a few moments to identify it and then suddenly she did.

Free.

The word came to the forefront of her mind like a bolt of lightning. Free? When had she last felt like that? But she had no time to dwell on that conundrum before a wave of euphoria swept through her and affected every nerve ending in her body.

She gasped as it washed over her before it picked her up and carried her as though she were surfing on the crest of a wave. But she felt no fear, no dread of riding that wave. She grinned instead as every fibre of her being lit up with unadulterated happiness. She felt fearless, untouchable, omnipotent. She blinked and a loose thread of a thought told her she'd been drugged with some kind of upper. But before she had time to consider what its purpose was, the wave carried her off again and a laugh escaped her while a single tear ran down her cheek.

All sense of inhibition vanished, she sighed happily as a weight she'd carried on her shoulders all her adult life was suddenly lifted. Hatred, pain and anger she'd kept inside since that day when she was twelve evaporated. Peacefulness took its place.

All notion of time lost she didn't know how long she'd felt cushioned in that blanket of comfort and pure joy. Gradually she became aware of the restraints on her wrists again, only now they felt more restrictive and tighter against her skin. She pulled at them and as she did so the sense of dread returned. Accompanied it was anger that she'd been subjected to that injection. It was a violation and she called out for someone to answer and to blame. She kept shouting, her words littered with profanities until she heard the door to her side open again. Her voice grew louder and was only silenced when she felt her wrists were being freed. Quickly she realised two people stood at either side of her as they removed the restraints. Her instincts, painfully slow as a result of whatever she'd been drugged with, only served to her throwing an ill-timed punch as her right hand was untied. The man at her side barely had to dodge it as he forcefully took hold of her fist in his large hand. As her left hand was released by the person to her left, who she also ascertained was a man by the size and roughness of his grip, he pushed her hand across her body until the man on the right took hold of both her hands in a tight grasp.

"You sons of bitches!" she yelled as she fruitlessly tried to break free.

As before only silence was her response.

"What do you want from me?! And what was in that goddamned syringe?! For Christ's sake, will one of you bastards just talk to me?!"

She breathed heavily, her energy sapped almost immediately from her outburst as a headache formed and her head began to spin. Her body, feather light as she'd coasted that wave, felt heavier than it ever had as if her limbs were now weighted down with bricks.

A few seconds later her hands were allowed to fall to her chest and she took ragged breaths as she heard the two men depart the room. She scrambled to remove the mask from her eyes and sat up, the quick motion bringing on another dizzy spell. White light greeted her and she blinked wildly to acclimatise to the sudden brightness.

When her vision was no longer clouded she looked around and found herself in no more than a twelve by twelve foot room. Its walls were painted pure white and a skylight lay overhead. For a second she was mesmerized by the blue of the sky streaming through it. She blinked, realising the after effects of whatever had been pumped into her had left her reflexes and perception painfully slow. Everything was moving in slow motion, including her brain on scanning her surroundings. She breathed out and gazed around the room again, frowning and taking deep breaths to try to clear the fog that had descended.

She stared at the needle mark on the inside of her left arm as she felt it with the fingers of her right, scratching at it slightly as if doing that would reverse its effect. She was sitting on a metal gurney and reaching over she untied the tan leather restraints from her ankles. Like a newborn foal, she staggered off the gurney and took a deep breath as the room spun around her, making her clutch the cold metal sides of it for support.

A stainless steel toilet came into view that sat in one corner of the room. A metal table bolted to the floor was in the other corner where a neatly folded change of clothes and a dish that looked like it contained some kind of porridge sat side by side. Cold ran through her and she shuddered. She was evidently not in here to be killed immediately if they wanted to feed and clothe her. Wherever the hell she was her captors had planned on her being here for days. Perhaps even weeks.

She stumbled over to the only door in the room and pulled on its metal handle. As expected it was locked securely. She began to shiver and approached the table. A plastic spoon to eat whatever gruel this was. She grimaced as she checked out the clothing, shaking her head as she rifled through it. A pair of plain white scrubs along with some fresh underwear and socks and slippers made her frown. What the hell was going on?

As she looked around the room again she couldn't help but feel like a lab rat in a science experiment. When she heard the whirr of a camera in the far corner of the room as it turned towards her she stared into it. She began to shake.

* * *

 _ **Brentwood, Maine.**_

 _ **Present Day.**_

After staring at him for a few seconds as she took in his news, suddenly she delved into her purse and grabbed her wallet from it. Rushing, she fished dollars from it while her hands shook.

"I'll get the check, you get some air," Jane told her, concern written all over his features.

"O-kay," she stammered as she tried to take a breath and didn't catch his eyes.

She bolted for the door and he exhaled as he briefly closed his eyes. For the first time since he'd seen her again, he wondered if coming here was a good idea. He barely recognised her as her emotions ran from one extreme to the other before she reset them and constructed a brick wall for them to reside behind again just as quickly. Taking another breath, he stood up and paid the bill before walking outside. He glanced around the car and then noticed her a few feet away as she stood at the edge of the pebbled shore while she watched black waves roll in and retreat.

She jerked when he placed the leather jacket around her shoulders she'd forgotten in her haste and sidestepped away from him slightly. As she put it on he saw she'd composed herself again in front of him. She looked out to the dark ocean ahead and asked him quietly but evenly, "How do you know it was the same person...the same...people?"

His eyes shot to her left arm and she crossed her arms across her chest as she followed his eyes with a sideways glance in his direction. "Similarities," he responded softly, tucking his hands into his jacket pockets. He licked his lips, "Not entirely the same as what happened to you but..."

"Okay," she interrupted, shaking her head. "I...I don't need to hear the details. I believe you."

"Look," he sighed, "I know what happened to you was...terrible and the last thing I want you to do is relive it-"

She turned her head sharply and her eyes turned into saucers. "You-you want me to help you investigate this? That's why you're here?"

He shrugged. "And to see you." He shot her a puzzled look. "Lisbon, you can help us catch him, them...whatever..."

She exhaled and snapped her head back ahead of her again. "I'm sure you can catch them without my help. It's not like you ever needed it in the first place."

"Well, that's just not true. And...frankly, I thought you'd want to."

She huffed. "We're not all built like you, Jane. Not all of us wants revenge on atrocities committed on us or people we care for."

"You're lying," he told her, the words making her face him again. He added, "Harder to tell with you...with this..." he waved in her direction, "with this...persona you've taken on but it shows through when you're annoyed."

"It's not a persona, Jane. It's me. I've changed. I'm not a cop anymore. I'm not the woman you knew in Sacramento."

He studied her for a long moment as she looked defiantly into his eyes, trying to convince him of that. Then, instead of answering those points, he said instead, "You didn't mention I was wrong about you wanting revenge."

She rolled her eyes and shot him a withering look. He grinned instantly at the once familiar gesture and, though it was dark, he could tell her face coloured slightly. Then, wall back in place, she turned to the front again. "Justice," she specified, "not revenge."

"Meh, tomato, potato," he teased, hoping to coax more of the woman he used to know out again.

She laughed faintly but with a hollow edge to it. Then, seriously, "You're right, of course. I want them caught. But...I can't help you do that, Jane. Not anymore."

"Yes, you can," he urged.

She shook her head.

He frowned and, as she was making no effort to look him in the eyes again, he walked around in front of her so he could make her.

She stared at his vest for a second before she relented and brought her face up to his. She shrugged and her guard was reinforced more than ever as she held no emotion in her tone. "But, well, thanks for coming all this way and telling me, anyway. I know you and the team will handle it, I have faith in you. And thanks for the apology. But there was no need for that. You had good reason to believe it was him."

His frown deepened and he blinked twice in rapid succession. "That's all you have to say?" he asked with incredulity. "You really don't want to help us catch them?"

Another shrug. "What else is there to say? And I can't help." She glanced at the car and began walking towards it. "Can you drop me back at the bar?" she called as he remained fixed in the same spot she left him.

By the time he'd taken the few strides to the passenger door where she was waiting for him, his frustration had increased and some anger boiled over to the surface. "What the hell, Lisbon?" he said with a shake of his head. It wasn't often he was tongue tied but at this moment he could think of nothing more constructive to say.

She swallowed and looked at the car door for him to open it. He'd tried the softly-softly approach and it hadn't worked. So instead, tired of her avoiding his gaze, he rolled his eyes and placed two fingers of his right hand on her chin to bring her face towards his again. He was not rough but neither was he entirely gentle or affectionate about it and she swiped them off immediately as a flash of rage seared itself to her irises.

"Well, that's a little better," he said with pursed lips as his hand fell to its side again.

"What's that supposed to mean?" she said, staring at him now.

"Your suppressed rage. Better you let it out than act like a damn automaton."

She ignored the remark and yanked on the door handle. "Take me back," she ordered him as she stared at the handle.

* * *

They drove in silence back the same road they'd taken earlier, the atmosphere thick with unresolved issues. Resolutely, Lisbon stared out the window at her side the entire way and said nothing. Jane tapped his hand on the steering wheel, gripping it tightly every now and then as he pondered on what to do next.

"Where do you live?" he said emotionlessly as he rounded a corner and saw the bar he'd met her at in the distance.

"Just drop me off at the bar," she replied calmly.

"Lisbon, just tell me where you live. You're hardly in any fit state to work tonight and it's almost closing time anyway."

He was hoping she'd come back at him with a snarky remark about him surmising her emotional state but instead she nodded. Quietly, "Past your guest house about a half mile and take a left until you get to a blue house. Number 42."

As he drew up to the house she was out of the car faster than an Olympic 100 metre runner and had rounded on the trunk before he had his seatbelt off.

"This is nice," he said as he admired the one storey cottage that had a view of the ocean, ensuring his tone sounded relaxed. "You live here alone?"

"Yeah," she said as she nodded to the trunk so she could fetch her bike. "For now, anyway." As he nodded for her to continue she added, "Summertime it's rented to vacationers. At this time of year, there's not so much demand so I have it until then at half the price."

He leaned in the driver's door and pulled the lever to release the trunk.

As she opened it and began removing her bicycle he asked, "What then?"

She shrugged, "Don't know. Mike says there's a room upstairs at the bar I can have. Just needs a little updating. The Swan gets busy in Summer apparently so I'll probably be working triple shifts there anyway so it'll suit me better, I guess."

"Hmm. I see," he said as he helped her take the bike out.

"See what?" she asked as she narrowed her eyes at him.

His tone was soft but low. "That this is how you plan your life to be from this point on. That you see yourself serving beers to people whose most interesting conversation topic is the biggest fish they catch. That you know you'll hear the same conversations over and over again for the rest of your life. That your mind won't ever be stretched or challenged mentally again. That you'll surround yourself with people who won't pry or ask you too many questions like Mike who's latched onto you because he's estranged from his own daughter and doesn't want to make the same mistake with you as he did her by interfering. You'll be pleasant company but never extraordinary when you're in a crowd. You'll shuffle along, follow the pack. Lead a mundane life. You'll avoid situations that may make you angry like the plague."

He came closer until he faced her, continuing to lock eyes with her as he spoke. "You'll avoid men, companionship of any type. You might have sex every once and a while but it'll mean nothing to you. There'll be no emotion behind it; it'll just be for the release of a physical urge."

Her lips parted as he continued in his assessment of her, his tone clinical.

"You'll avoid anything or anyone that might make you feel something. You've resolved to live the rest of your life solely on your own, never to make lasting friendships again, never sharing your innermost secrets with anyone. You'll never be happy but you've come to terms with that, you don't expect to be. Hell, you don't even think you deserve to be."

He saw tears glistening unshed in her eyes and she went to turn her head away from him. This time, he placed his fingers on her chin tenderly and caressed it gently as he brought her face back to his.

"You don't need to live this way, Teresa," he whispered. "That doesn't have to be your future." He took a breath as he felt tears prick his eyes too. His fingers moved to her cheek and he rubbed his thumb slowly along it. A single tear ran over it and he released a ragged breath as he leaned in towards her, his entire hand covering her cheek now as he stroked it. She blinked and her eyes went to his lips. He licked them instinctively as he brought them closer to hers. He said, his breaths soft and warming on her skin, "There was nothing you could do, Teresa. You don't have to hide away like this, feeling guilty or ashamed over something that wasn't in your power to stop-"

Suddenly she pushed on his chest and backed off, surprising him both by the action and the force of it, and almost tripped over her bicycle in the process. The spell he had on her broken, she shook her head furiously as she wiped her eyes and sniffed. "Thanks for the analysis, Doctor Freud," she said pithily after taking a deep breath.

He ran a hand through his hair as he took a breath of his own, averting his eyes from her. He hadn't intended to get so close to her, for his feelings to bubble over like they just had. But he hadn't been able to stop himself as soon as he'd touched her skin as the moonlight reflected off it, so cold and pale, and as soon as she'd allowed his fingers to graze and rest on her chin he wanted to do nothing more than continue to spread some warmth back into her, hoping if he were able to accomplish that, then her real self would come back to him, too.

She brushed past him and, as she walked her bike up the path to her house, he shouted, with his back to her, "She didn't make it. The other woman died, Lisbon. She was a good person who had a young family and she died like you almost did. Tell me you don't want to help find out who did this for her and them even if not for yourself. If not, then you were right earlier. You're not who you used to be. You're someone I don't even want to know anymore."

She had stopped halfway when he'd started to call out. He closed his eyes, wishing his words would make her turn back to him. Then, a beat or two later, he heard her resume her walk towards her door as the sound of rubber tyres on gravel echoed in his ears.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Thanks again for all the lovely support for this story from me, both 'regular' supporters of my fics and some new ones I've picked up. So pleased so many of you are enjoying it. For those of you following it, I'm going to attempt to finish Trust over the next couple of weeks so my other stories may not get updated (unless I come to a roadblock) until I'm finished with that one (I find it easier to focus purely on one story as it hurtles towards the finish line). And, as some of you have been asking me both here and on Twitter recently, I'm hoping to pick up Destinies again once Trust is done.** **Sorry** **I abandoned it for so long.**

 **But before all that here's the next chapter of this one. Hope you like it.**

* * *

Chapter 5 - Closed Doors

 _ **Brentwood, Maine.**_

 _ **Present Day.**_

She closed the latch behind her and pressed her forehead against the hardwood interior of her front door. She listened intently, wondering if he was going to knock on the other side. A larger part of her than she'd ever admit hoping he'd do just that than leave them in this limbo once again, although she'd done exactly the same to him a year before when she'd vanished into the night, just a letter on her countertop left for him as her parting gift.

She listened for the taps to come then mused _more likely to pick the lock_ , bringing an anguished smile to her lips followed by a ragged breath. But instead, after no more than a minute of listening to her unsteady breaths echoing against the door, she heard a car door closing and an engine started. Intuitively she followed the sounds and moved to a side window, glimpsing through a crack in the curtain with one eye, unable to stop herself from gawking if this was truly going to be the last time she set eyes on him. She felt the overwhelming urge to burn the image to her retinas before she would say her silent goodbye to the last vestiges of the life she once had.

Jane sat in his car as the engine idled. He wore a drained expression and lightly tapped his fingers against his lips. _In thought about what to do next, no doubt. Making a choice._ Her heart picked up speed.

Then, his inaction suddenly turned into a swift reaction. He let go of a hurried breath and shook his head slightly. Without another glance towards the house, he drove off.

She closed her eyes briefly as her stomach tightened as he put distance between them once again. When she opened them tears were streaking down her cheeks, matching the heavy raindrops that had started to fall on the pane reflected.

* * *

Once back at the guesthouse, Jane called Cho and updated him on his progress – or lack thereof – with Lisbon. Cho was practically as unreadable as ever but from the silence that greeted him on the other end before replying to Jane's news of her disinterest, it was more than obvious her former deputy was concerned.

"You think I should come out there and try to convince her?" Cho asked him as Jane stretched out on the bed.

"Well I'm sure she's missed your sparkling repartee," Jane said with a smile, attempting to find some humour in the situation.

"Jane," Cho said, a worried but softer edge to his tone.

He sighed. "No offence but if I couldn't get through to her, I fail to see how you can help, Kimball. I shouldn't have left things so long, no matter what time she said she needed. Especially after Red John I should have-"

"Jane, this isn't your fault. It's Lisbon, she might just need some more time. Had to be a shock for her to hear that. Go and see her in the morning again."

"Yeah, never would have thought of that myself," Jane said with an eye roll. "Of course, I'm not about to leave town without having another conversation with her like she..." He sighed, tempered down his growing frustration. "But you're imagining the woman you used to know, Cho. This one," he sighed and shook his head, "well, the manual for reading her is set in an entirely different language than the one I remember."

"Then I suggest you learn it. Or adapt. And fast. Because even if she doesn't want to revisit what happened to her and help with the investigation we still need her insights, we still need to conduct an interview with her in light of this new case."

"Yeah, now I see why you sent me here and not come yourself," Jane quipped.

"No point in being the boss if you can't stop yourself taking collateral damage."

Jane's laugh was hollow in response. "Believe me, there's nothing I'd have liked better than for her to have given me both barrels when I basically annihilated her character earlier."

Cho deadpanned, "Then I'll hope for an accompanying punch in the face for you tomorrow when you talk to her again." The sound of a door being tapped in the background made him change his timbre to more supervisory agent than friend. "Look, I gotta go. You going to be okay?"

"Yeah, I'll let you know how it goes in the morning."

"And-"

"You need me back in Sacramento and on this case pronto, I know. I want to catch this bastard more than ever now."

"We need her around here too again. And not just because of this case. Place still feels...wrong. Tell her that. Make her listen to you."

Jane plucked at a loose thread from the pillow beside him. He smiled faintly. "I'll do my best." He sighed, "Let me work on it, call you tomorrow."

* * *

 _ **Sacramento.**_

 _ **13 months earlier.**_

She'd exhausted any means of escape quickly. The door was locked firmly from the other side and no amount of yelling brought anyone to it. The skylight was too high to reach or peripherally see out of even when she stood precariously on her tiptoes on the gurney and made a lunge to view what surrounded her outside. She surmised it must be a fairly remote location as her captors were happy to allow her to scream and kick as she liked. Glancing at the camera again as she came off the stretcher, she realised the opposite must, in fact, be true and that her growing frustration and rage were probably the show they were most interested in watching.

She took deep breaths to try to relax when clamminess began to pervade her, her skin hot and itchy as the minutes passed as she paced the small room, willing her brain to come up with a plan on getting herself out of there and trying not to think of what was in that syringe and what its after effects could render to her mind and body.

She padded over towards the fresh set of clothes again and brushed her hand over them. Freshly laundered with a fabric conditioner that smelt like roses. She quickly turned her head towards the camera and, with a hard glare, shook her head, resolutely refusing to clothe herself in them and reminding whoever was watching her that Teresa Lisbon was no pushover. She smiled to herself, revelling in this small victory for a few moments. It was a surrender to put them on, she told herself, though her blue jeans and white blouse clung to her, as her skin became progressively sweatier as the last remnants of her deodorant battled against the pungent odour of fear.

She wished she'd listened to Jane more when he spoke about biofeedback and the ability to control one's own body as it began to shake again, burning heat transitioning into bitter cold like she'd just entered a freezer. She never needed his help more. Then, she realised it was not just fear that was making her body react in this way. She'd been in tight situations before and had never been so physically affected. She thought back to the injection she'd been subjected to again. "Damn it," she muttered to herself, "you really are thinking slow today, Teresa. What the hell was in that thing?"

A pang of pain shot through her that she might never see Jane or the team again if she'd been injected with some slow acting toxin or a disease that would eventually kill her. She thought of her brothers, and nieces and nephews, who she had sadly neglected since moving out to California, choosing a career over her family. She thought of Jane again, of the tension between them since Vegas. They'd papered over the cracks since he'd returned but the perennial presence of Lorelei Martins in their lives sat squarely between them still. Now she wished she'd had the time and the courage to face that subject with him head on. Now she might never have the chance to ask him the questions she had always feared to ask.

Physically and mentally weary now, she sat on the floor opposite the table with her arms wrapped around her for warmth and her back to the camera, refusing to let whoever was watching see the tears and terror in her eyes.

She reached over and pulled the bowl to her lap as she sat cross-legged on the gleaming cold white tiles of the floor. Grimacing at the beige slop, she began to eat it with her eyes closed, attempting to block out what she was putting into her mouth and pretending it was something more palatable. At least she knew it wasn't likely to be poisoned; they could have put that in the syringe. Perhaps they had for all she knew. Cold and lumpy and tasting just as bad as it looked, she wasn't altogether successful in visualizing it as something better than it was and gagged as she put the first few spoonfuls of the sludge into her mouth before swallowing it down. Her temper rising again, she almost threw it against the wall as another protest to her imprisonment. But, she rationalised, just as she raised the bowl towards the wall beside her, any replacement would probably not be forthcoming. She needed sustenance if she was to fight against whatever had been pumped into her system, not to mention to gain strength for whatever lay in store for her next.

* * *

After five minutes of silent contemplation, Jane rose from his couch in the bullpen to his feet quickly.

"Where are you going?" Cho asked, without looking up from the deluge of case files on his desk.

"Just for a walk," Jane replied, rolling down his shirtsleeves to put on his jacket.

Cho sighed and leaned back in his chair and studied the other man, the quirk of an eyebrow the only change in his facial expression.

"Okay. To talk to Bertram again," Jane admitted. "He knows more; that much is obvious."

"Or he was just messing with you."

"And why would he do that?"

Cho shrugged. "Who knows, probably payback for something or other you've done to him in the past. We have other leads we need you on first."

"Like what?"

"Volker. He should be at his office now. Want you to talk to him."

Jane shook his head. "This isn't Volker, it's Red John."

"How do you know that?" Van Pelt interjected.

"I know," Jane said, fixing her with a steely gaze.

"You don't for certain," Cho said. "There's no evidence of this being Red John."

"And there's no evidence it's Volker either," Jane argued.

"No. But there's more likelihood it's him due to the timing. Lisbon's been hounding him since Amanda Shaw was murdered."

"So, why not just kill her if it's him? Why take her instead?"

"Same questions apply to Red John."

Jane sighed heavily and nodded. He had no plan to get anything more out of Bertram and maybe poking a bigwig like Volker would rid himself of some of the frustration he felt until he could engineer something. He had yet to meet the man and, if he were being entirely honest, the list of people he'd been drawing up as possible Red Johns had been his priority much more than Lisbon's persecution of Volker. He'd offered her his help, of course, but she appeared to want to catch the man herself. And he was hardly someone fit to argue with her on that point. "Fine, it's a waste of time but I'll go talk to him."

Cho nodded as he dipped his head again, "Good. Rigsby, you go with him."

* * *

 _ **Brentwood, Maine.**_

 _ **Present Day.**_

Jane was reading the copy of the case file as he listened to the rain pitter-patter against the wooden terrace outside his room. It was three am and, after unsuccessfully attempting to get some shut eye, he'd put the light back on beside him and decided to go through the coroner's report once more. He could practically recite it, but focusing on the document in front of him kept his thoughts off Lisbon and how he'd talked to her earlier. But she worked herself into them anyway, despite his best efforts. _Had he pushed her too far to get a reaction? When she saw him the next day would she merely blank him, close herself off further from him?_ Maybe a visit from Cho would have been better, after all, he began to reason. Theirs was a much more professional relationship than his own with Lisbon's...not fraught with so many emotions and hurt feelings that ebbed their way into conversations.

A soft tap came to his room door. His eyes shot to the side, panicked. He'd heard no one enter the front door so any hope it was Lisbon left him immediately. He rolled his eyes that it must be the rather overfriendly divorcee owner of the B&B who had noticed his light on during the night. She wasn't unattractive and around his age but the last thing he wanted was to have to give her the brush off. It would cause him unnecessary problems if he had to stay here another night. He looked to his bare wedding ring finger. Since he'd removed it, he'd been having more and more women hit on him, as if he now wore a green light on his head that said 'available'. Stealthily he turned off the light, hoping that would dissuade her and avoid an awkward scene.

"Jane," came through the door in a loud whisper. "Open up."

There was only one person here who would call him that. A glimmer of hope rising in him, he clamoured to turn the light back on and bolted from the bed to open the door.

"Lisbon," he said as he raked his eyes over her. Raising an eyebrow at the sight of her, wet curls sticking to her face, bare legged and a beige raincoat that came only to her knees, he pulled the door open further and allowed her to pass.

She entered his room quickly, plastering her hair back from her face with barely a look in his direction. As she faced him, all rosy cheeked and delightfully bedraggled, he swallowed slightly as his pulse rate reacted to her, his eyes drawn to her shapely legs as they glistened under the artificial light.

It took him a moment to realise she was appraising him in a similar fashion, though her expression was more curious than leering. "You wear pyjamas?" she asked, furrowing her brow, the obvious source of her inquisitiveness.

He looked down at his navy cotton attire. "Yeah...sometimes," he frowned. A little giddy that she'd shown up at all after their early contretemps he added with a smirk, "Other times, depending on the circumstances, I sleep naked as a jaybird."

She licked her lips and looked away for a second. Then she faced him again and smirked, some daring in her eyes. "Right. Then it appears I came to see you on the correct night."

"Really? I'm not convinced that's true at all," he shrugged with a more devilish smile.

If she weren't already ruddy-cheeked her blush would have been discernibly noticeable.

He asked, "How'd you get in here? Don't tell me you've resorted to lock-picking in your free time these days?"

"Mrs. Marshall keeps a spare key under the hydrangea bush," she shrugged. "Everyone around here knows that."

"Well, I am pleased I'm staying in such a security conscious establishment," he said with an eye roll.

"It's not the city, Jane. Crime here never even starts, much less stops."

"Hmm, guess not."

"What?" she said when she noticed he was staring at her and was obviously distracted.

He pointed to her legs. "Are you, by any chance, naked under that raincoat?"

"Pfft. In your dreams," she said with a roll of her eyes.

"Constantly," he smiled.

She laughed and smiled at him, some pride intermingled with her embarrassment. He let go of a breath at the sight of it and grinned back. For a few seconds, they'd regained some of the familiarity they used to have. It was over all too briefly as she looked downcast again a moment later but perhaps next time, he hoped, they could hang onto it for longer. And there was a definite thaw in the air between them, at least.

"I'll get you a towel," he said, making his way into the small bathroom ensuite to the room. Taking one off the rack he handed it to her and she nodded her thanks. She took off her raincoat and he noticed she wore one of her football jerseys along with some sleep shorts underneath. Pulling her hair to the side, she began to dry it off roughly.

"So," he began, faithfully avoiding his gaze straying to her legs again, "the fact you're here at three am, obviously on a whim as you didn't even stop to get dressed first, leads me to believe you've changed your mind and want to help. Or you've come to tell me off for what I said earlier. Or to punch me for it."

She took a breath and swung her damp hair towards her back again, and began using the towel on her legs now. He rolled his eyes inwardly and moved to the kettle and tea selection in his room to stop his thoughts focusing on entirely the wrong subject and course of action.

His back to her as he switched on the kettle, she said, "You're still a manipulative son of a bitch."

"Guilty as charged," he replied immediately as he popped teabags into cups. "Haven't changed that much, Lisbon," he added cheerfully.

She spoke quietly and cautiously. "What you said earlier...did you mean all of that...or was that just your way of getting me to help? Provoking a reaction like you used to do when we worked together?"

He gnawed on his bottom lip before sighing heavily. Then he faced her and said with absolute seriousness, "Little of both."

She nodded and hurt crossed her features briefly.

"Look," he started, coming closer to her. "I just wanted you to-"

"It's okay," she interrupted with another nod. "Thanks for your honesty, I guess."

She looked around the room before sitting on the edge of the bed. "I couldn't sleep...not that I..." She sighed and looked to the ground with a shake of her head.

"You don't sleep? Still?" he asked gently.

"Sometimes," she shrugged. She looked up at him. "Sometimes not." She took a deep breath, "Jane, I do want to help-"

"Good."

"But I don't think I can," she said as she laid her elbows on her knees and stared straight ahead.

He finished making two cups of tea and sat beside her after handing her one that she used as a hand warmer. "Why? Why don't you think you can?" he asked softly.

"I've been away too long for one-"

"Nonsense. You were a cop for twenty years or so. You don't lose those instincts in the space of a year."

She shook her head. "You'd be surprised."

"Lisbon, Cho and I wouldn't expect you to don your bulletproof vest and start hurtling your way towards criminals and standoffs immediately again. You'd be there, helping us, in a more...advisory role."

She turned her head and raised an eyebrow. "So...I'd be a... _consultant_ for you, is that what you're saying?"

He grinned at her barely disguised abhorrence at the word as she'd said it. "You might even get a laminate if you're lucky. Those are collectors' items, my dear."

She chuckled half-heartedly then sighed. After taking a sip of tea she said, "It's not just that."

"What else? Facing the team? Sacramento? It's no coincidence you ended up as far away as Maine to get away from what happened there. I'm just pleased I didn't have to track you down to your next pit stop, Ireland."

She nodded, ignoring his joke. "All of that, yes. What if...what if I can't handle it, Jane? What if-"

"What if you can," he said, leaning closer so he could look in her eyes. "What if it helps you heal...helps you...deal."

She let go of a breath. "What if it doesn't? What if by going back there I...regress."

He nodded slowly. There was always the chance that returning to Sacramento may make things much worse for her before they got better. Odds were that being reminded of what happened to her would mean they would. But he clung on to the hope that facing her fears would make her stronger and more empowered eventually. He'd just have to make sure she didn't face the rough times alone, no matter how much she might push him away. She'd been there with him through some of his darkest times. He owed her the same in return.

Softly, "I'm not saying going back is going to a cakewalk, Teresa. How about this? You take a look at the case file first, see how that goes, and then make your decision?"

"You brought a copy of it with you?"

"Of course." He nodded to it on the nightstand, saw her flinch infinitesimally from it when her eyes noticed it there. "But I need to tell you a few things before you read it."

"Like what?"

"Well, we believe we found the location you were kept."

Her eyes widened and her breathing quickened. "You did?"

"We think so but we need you to confirm so we can be certain. There are photographs in the file of the place we suspect."

"The white room?"

He nodded, "It's just like you described. It's where we found the woman who died and linked the cases. I'm hoping seeing the photographs might make you remember more than you did at the time."

She shivered and clasped the cup tighter at the thought of reliving the experience she had gone through there, and especially reliving some of what she remembered only too well but had never told to a soul, including the man currently sitting beside her. "Okay," she said as she licked her lips that had suddenly gone dry. "I'll have a look. See if I remember something that might help."


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: So I'm finally back with an update to this one at long last, apologies for the long delay. I'm not happy with this chapter at all but I've agonised over it long enough and doubt I ever will be no matter how much I change it so here it is anyway! I admit I was a little out of my comfort zone and knowledge base in a certain scene but hope you'll be kind to me with that in mind. On more solid ground from next chapter on so let's hope you hang in there. Some interesting stuff to come, I think. Thank you.**

* * *

Chapter 6 - Victims

 _ **Sacramento.**_

 _ **13 months earlier.**_

She tried to stay awake, telling herself she had to be alert and ready for swift action as she awaited her captors' return.

She prayed, her fingers clutched tightly to the cross around her neck, that she'd have enough strength to fight them off somehow in her weakened state and escape the room.

The minutes passed in silence as she sat with her back to the cold wall beside the table, watching for any signs of movement from the only door. She stared vacantly ahead - her senses becoming increasingly dulled as fogginess as dense as that on a moonlit moor straight out of a Jane Austen novel pervaded her consciousness. It gradually seeped into her like thick syrup, eventually rendering her nerve endings dormant and nonresponsive.

The door blurred in front of her and she blinked to remain conscious.

She listened to the sound of her heartbeat, its now slow and steady rhythm only aiding in allowing slumber to claim her.

The fight to keep her eyes open was a battle she was always ultimately meant to lose.

It was to be the first of many.

* * *

Jane and Rigsby arrived at Volker's office and walked up the spiral staircase to his desk after his assistant had cleared their arrival.

Tommy Volker raised himself from his chair in the sun-strewn room and beamed a well-practiced smile at Rigsby. "Good morning, Agent...?"

"Rigsby, Mr. Volker." He nodded towards Jane. "And this is my colleague, a consultant who works for us-"

"Patrick Jane," Jane interrupted, holding out his right hand to Volker. As Volker narrowed his eyes slightly at Jane's tight grip as the two men shook hands, the blond man continued, "Pleased to meet you at last. Have to say Teresa Lisbon has spoken about you at great length. Nice to put a face finally to the warmongering murderer she mentioned."

Volker retrieved his hand quickly then released a short bitter chuckle. "I see. And where is the ever-fascinating Agent Lisbon herself? When I heard agents from the CBI wanted to speak to me again I assumed she would be present. She does so enjoy attempting to ruffle my feathers." He smiled with more ease.

Jane, expressionless, watched as Rigsby questioned the businessman. "Mr. Volker, we're here to enquire about Agent Lisbon. When was the last time you saw her?"

Volker frowned. "Saw her? What does that matter? What's this all about, gentlemen?"

"You haven't heard?" Jane interjected calmly. "She was abducted from a building by the docks last night."

Volker furrowed his brow and shook his head. "Why...that's terrible. Tragic news."

"Is it?" Jane cut in. "Not for you, certainly."

"You think I had something to do with it?" the dark haired man asked with incredulity.

"Why not?" Jane smirked. "She was getting to you with her interference in the Amanda Shaw murder, after all, wasn't she?"

Volker stepped back to sit behind his desk again. He cast a swift contemptuous glance at Jane before he spoke to Rigsby. Confidently, "I was at a Charity Gala last night. Feel free to check the details with my assistant. There are...oh...probably a couple hundred people who can verify my whereabouts all evening."

"Well, we wouldn't expect you to abduct her yourself," Jane said, shoving his hands into his pockets with a smile. As Volker turned his head towards him again, he added, "Not your style to get your own hands dirty, is it?"

A beat passed as Volker pursed his lips into a false smile. Exhaling a derisive chuckle he then shuffled some papers on his desk. Picking up a pen as he looked down he said loudly, "If there's nothing else, Agents, please see yourselves out."

Jane approached the desk and laid his palms flat down on top of it. His shadow cast over Volker, the other man looked up at him again. Jane looked into his eyes, his own dark with warning. He lowered his tone. "If you had anything to do with this then this is the time to admit it. Believe me, you don't want to make an enemy out of me any more than you already have."

Volker looked the blond man up and down as he rested back in his chair. Amused, "Threats, is it? Well, in Agent Lisbon's absence from the CBI I'm pleased someone has picked up that particular mantle of responsibility. It is-"

His smile encroached on self-satisfaction, "-or should I say was, if this turns out badly for her, such a favourite interrogation tactics of hers. Not that it achieved her anything other than embarrassing herself in my case."

Jane narrowed his eyes at the other man. A cold smile crept upon his lips. "You shouldn't make the mistake that because I work with Lisbon I'm anything like her. I live by a different set of rules."

His gaze darkened further and the smile left his lips. "So, if it transpires you are responsible for taking her I will make it my business to catch you and deal with you. No matter the cost to me personally. And, just so we're clear, that's no idle threat - that's my promise to you."

Volker made no attempt to disguise his disdain. "You should be more careful how you speak to people, Mr. Jane."

Jane grinned. "And you should be more careful of the enemies you make."

A beat passed as Volker sized up the blond man in front of him again. Jane added, "We'll see ourselves out."

* * *

"So?" Rigsby asked as they exited the building and began walking towards their cars. Jane had said nothing since leaving Volker's office.

"Interesting man, isn't he?" Jane said eventually, his brow furrowed.

"You think he had something to do with taking the boss?"

Jane shrugged and sighed. "Man's a sociopath, difficult to read." He started to walk purposefully towards his car. "Need some time to think about it some more. You head back to the CBI, fill Cho in, I'll be back later. If there's any news, let me know."

Rigsby trailed after him. "We're not supposed to separate. For all we know this could be an attack on all of us. We shouldn't split up, Jane. Last thing we need is you getting taken too."

"I'll be fine," Jane said, removing his jacket as he unlocked his car.

As Jane drove away, leaving Rigsby shaking his head on the sidewalk, he sighed again. Volker was hiding plenty and was practically gleeful that Lisbon had been kidnapped. But that didn't mean he had anything to do with it, he could just as easily be pleased that a thorn in his side had been removed.

He clung on to the next word in his head. _Temporarily._

He would find her. He had to.

* * *

She woke up, bathed in darkness and sweat. She'd fallen asleep sprawled over the tiled floor and she went to sit up straight.

Then she felt it, the pain that must have made her come around so suddenly. Her stomach spasmed and she bent over with a moan, the dreadful gruel she had eaten earlier attempting to make its reappearance. She reached out in the dark, searching for the toilet bowl close to her as she tried to adjust her eyes to the night and find her bearings. She felt the cold steel finally just as her mouth filled with vomit. She retched loudly as she threw up, her head bowed over the bowl and her hands clutched tightly to the metal rim of its sides.

"Oh dear god," she panted as she divested her stomach of its lining before another bout of nausea overwhelmed her. She spat into the toilet, her eyes watering and blurring her vision. Her limbs felt like dead weight and she breathed out, trying to catch her breath. She slumped back onto the floor again after, the smell of vomit beside her. She began to cry quietly, turning her body into a foetal position away from the camera.

The door to the side opened after a few minutes or more. She wasn't certain how long she'd lain there weeping as her body began to shake with a freezing cold that swept through it as her limbs screamed in pain. Fluorescent light from outside showered the room. Somehow she managed to get to her feet, shaky like a newborn foal. She bared her teeth as she turned around and sniffed her tears away. "You-"

She stopped talking, rubbing her fingers over her eyes to make the vision in front of her come into focus.

Two men dressed in white and wearing matching plastic white masks approached her, the surprise in seeing their mirrored ghoulish fake expressions stopping her train of thought. She wondered briefly if this was a hallucination. She shook her head to clear it and hunkered down, charging at the red haired smaller one of the two, hoping he had a weapon she could extract from him. The taller one, with dark hair and a buzz cut haircut military style, easily intervened and lifted her up from the floor. She grabbed at his mask to push her fingers into his eye sockets and he smacked her hard across the face before she could make contact. All the air left her lungs with the force of it and, as she fought for a breath, he hoisted her up easily onto the gurney again, the smaller man immediately moving to place the restraints on her flailing legs. She kicked her right foot as he went to secure the leather strap and he swore under his breath and called her a bitch as she landed it cleanly against the plastic over his face. She saw trickles of blood appear from the nose hole in his mask and she laughed in victory. But the larger man was too strong and, after securing her wrists, he held her legs down so the redhead could secure them too.

"Now what?!" she yelled.

The larger man uncuffed her left arm again as the smaller one produced a metre length rubber hose. She shook her head, realising quickly what was coming next. "No! You sons of bitches! No! Not again!"

She struggled as they tied the hose around her forearm and pumped her arm up and down. Another man with greying hair entered the room wearing a surgical mask and carrying a needle.

"You don't have to do this!" she screamed as he leaned his head towards her as he studied her. "At least talk to me! Tell me who you are! Why are you doing this?! What do you want?!"

The 'doctor' stroked her hair gently, his ice blue eyes staring into her terrified green ones as he tilted his head to the side. She flinched away from his touch and he tapped a vein in her arm. He said nothing as he injected her once again.

As he retracted the needle she felt the rush of euphoria wash over her again almost immediately. She coasted its wave once again; its warm waters considerably more refreshing and soothing than the first time she experienced it. It was impossible to resist the joy of being carried along in its current. In fact, she didn't want to resist it. She wanted the peace it gave her, however fleeting it might be. She wanted the reprieve it offered.

Suddenly in the back of her mind, she knew what the plan was for her.

Addiction.

* * *

 _ **Brentwood, Maine.**_

 _ **Present Day.**_

Lisbon felt the once all too familiar feel of brown manila in her hands. A faint smile came to her lips like she'd just been reacquainted with an old friend. She brushed her fingers slowly over the smooth surface of the folder and traced the 'CBI' logo with her fingertips gently as her eyes scanned the name on the front – Jessica Wells. Homicide was written in black ink and she took a breath.

"Who was she?" she asked Jane quietly as he sat in silence beside her as he studied her reactions closely.

"Second Grade school teacher, thirty-five. Left a husband and three children. I see you've never heard of her. We looked into her history, couldn't find any possible link between you two either. You're nothing like each other on paper."

Lisbon frowned immediately, her eyes darting to Jane's. Her mouth opened in a question and he nodded. "I know, Lisbon. Whoever this is doesn't have a specific type, it seems. Or else has finally found the type they really desired or is still trying to find out what that is. It's not just your lifestyles that are different, she doesn't - didn't - look anything like you either."

She shook her head. "The fact it isn't Red John changes everything we suspected at the time, Jane. We assumed it was a personal attack on me...maybe...maybe it never was. Maybe I was just first."

"I still believe that what happened to you was personal. You were lured to that location, Teresa. If...if they were just looking for anyone they could have abducted a hundred women in much easier ways. But...I think you're partially right. I think...I think whoever's been doing this didn't stop after you. And that they didn't wait a year between attacks."

"You really suspect they've been doing this to other women all this time?" she stated, her heart rate picking up speed.

"Yes, I'm certain of it."

"But how...if that's the case then a link would have been found between what happened to me and them before now, surely?"

"Not necessarily. Depending on other victims...well, depending on their circumstances...they may not have been missed from society, especially if they were transients."

"And their bodies dumped somewhere before a link could be established or they could tell their story," she nodded, pulling the sleeves of her jersey down her arms as a chill ran through her. "How was this woman found, then?"

Jane got up from the bed. "Just happenstance, unbelievably. I'll get to that. I'll make us some more tea first."

She licked her lips and breathed out. "Thanks." As she watched Jane perform his tea making ritual, she said to him softly, "Thanks for coming all this way. I know...I know you must have some questions about me leaving. And that you must feel some resentment-"

"It's fine," he said with his back turned, a little too quickly for her not to pick up the accompanying bite in his remark. She watched him relax his shoulders. Softly, "Let's just focus on the case for now, okay?"

"Sure," she nodded. After another deep breath, she opened the folder in front of her. She moved to the small table in the room as she scattered its contents over it. She glanced at the autopsy report, deciding to save that for a detailed look later. She picked up a copy of the DMV photograph of Jessica Wells. Jane was correct. She looked nothing like her. Elfin cut blonde hair and blue eyes. She was also five inches taller than her. "It's like a complete 180 almost in victimology," she stated quietly as she stared at the photograph. _Victimology_. The word echoed loudly in her head. Jane had said 'victim' before too. ' _Other victims...'_ She was a victim. Had been a victim, she reminded herself. She wasn't one anymore _. Right?_

"You okay?" Jane asked softly as he placed a fresh cup of tea beside her.

She swallowed, realising she'd spaced out for a second or two. "Fine," she said, clearing her throat.

"It's understandable if you're not, Teresa."

She kept her gaze on the contents of the file in front of her. "You asked for my help, Jane. I said I would. I can handle looking through a file. I'm fine."

He took a long sip of tea as he sat opposite her. "Okay," he said with little enthusiasm or belief in his tone. Louder, "Like I said, she doesn't look like you. You don't recognise her, then?"

Lisbon frowned and shook her head. "No...I mean...not that I can recall."

"Okay," he nodded, "it was a long shot but worth checking in case you two were ever in the same tap dancing class or something."

She whipped her head up to him with a frown, her mouth open in puzzlement that he thought she ever attended such a class. He grinned at her immediately. "Just a joke to break some tension," he chuckled.

She rolled her eyes and began looking through the folder again. She found a photograph of the white room and her face drained of all its colour. Jane leaned across the table and placed his hand on hers that had started to shake. "It's okay. Just take a minute. Just breathe. It's the same place, I take it, then. Same room you were kept?"

"Y-Yes." She took a deep breath and nodded slowly. "Okay...maybe...maybe this is a little hard, after all."

He smiled and squeezed her hand. "Take your time. No rush."

She pulled her hand back and rubbed it across her face. She straightened her shoulders. "Okay." She cleared her throat as she began to leaf through the folder's contents. Dispassionately, "Is there a photograph of the right foot restraint? A close up?"

Jane moved some papers around and nodded as he lifted up the image she'd requested. "Here you go. Why?"

"I kicked one of them in the face, remember? He bled a little. Might have-"

"Bled onto the leather. Good thinking. Forensics have taken swabs of all the restraints, no results in just yet. Be another few days before we know if they catch any clean DNA that doesn't belong to the victim."

"Jessica," Lisbon said absently as she peered more closely at the photograph in her hand.

Jane smiled at the correction. As he had hoped, seeing the picture of the woman murdered had made Lisbon relate to her more. She was no longer just a name in a file, but someone the Lisbon he used to know would want to get justice for. Even if this version of Lisbon didn't believe in fighting for justice in her own name, she wanted it for this woman who shared the same horrendous experience she had gone through. It was enough for now. It would get her back to Sacramento.

She dropped the photograph and stated, "I need to see that room for myself."

"You're coming back with me?"

"I have to. These photographs...nothing new is coming to me."

"Excellent," he smiled. "I'll make arrangements for us to fly back together in the morning."

"On one condition," she said.

He nodded for her to continue.

"You don't tell the rest of the team I'm coming back. I'll just fly in, check out the white room, see if I can remember anything then fly back here again. If I recall anything, you can share it with the team when I'm in the air."

"Lisbon, they'll want to see you. They don't blame you for leaving, not at all-"

"Those are my terms, Jane," she said with determination. "Take it or leave it."

He shrugged. So she wasn't as ready to come back fully into the fold again as he had hoped. She still didn't value her own worth enough for her to believe she was capable of being a cop again. It appeared it would take more time and more coaxing to persuade her. And if she remembered nothing more than she did a year ago when she arrived back in that room again then he wasn't sure how he'd be able to accomplish that. "Seems like I have no choice. Okay, we'll do it your way."


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: A massive thank you to all of you still following this story. I understand that this storyline is upsetting for some but the scenes in the room are almost at an end, I promise. But I get that it's too tough for some to continue reading this one with the subject matter. I always knew it would be a hard sell!**

* * *

Chapter 7 – Misdirection

 ** _Sacramento._**

 ** _13 months earlier._**

She'd vomited soon after the second time. She'd barely noticed the men unshackle her and leave again as her mind disassociated itself from her consciousness and she'd staggered towards the toilet again as her head spun.

She'd experienced diarrhoea after the third time. She no longer felt any embarrassment or the need to put on an act of strength in front of the camera. She didn't care who was watching her and any pretence of dignity she had was long gone.

She stopped trying to get the men holding her to speak to her after the fourth time. Silence was her world now. And it was easier that way.

She gave up trying to fight them off after the fifth time. Not because she no longer felt the pain of an occasional slap or punch to her gut, though her listless body hardly noticed them. She merely had no enthusiasm to put in the effort attached to struggling.

She changed into the scrubs after the sixth time. She couldn't smell the stench of herself anymore but viewed it as a gesture of co-operation. She told herself it wasn't because she wanted to be rewarded with the needle.

She gave up hope of being saved by the seventh time. She just wanted euphoric oblivion or death to claim her.

Throughout she experienced occasional hallucinations, from her mother soothing her to sleep to her father repeatedly using her as a punching bag.

She saw Jane in visions too, but his blond locks were always just out of reach, his smile repeatedly a side view, his sea green eyes never directed towards her.

She had no concept of time as the hours and days stretched on.

Between injections, she spent the time alone staring aimlessly ahead in front of her. She played with a thread that had come loose from the left hand restraint for hours. Her brain shut down, cell by cell, second by second until nothing of who she had been was left.

Her only highlight became the opening of the door. Not to escape anymore, just to experience the rush of what lay ahead. They no longer needed to shackle her into submission after the fifth time.

The eighth (or ninth...or tenth...she no longer held the capacity or cared to keep track of her injections coherently) time was different.

The man who had been injecting her came into the room alone. He no longer had the requirement of bodyguards. Her eyes flicked to his right hand from her position on the stretcher as she turned her head slowly from the blue sky above her. She frowned when she saw it empty. She tried to ignore the gnawing pain in her gut that she would have to wait for her release but her eyes betrayed her, begging him to give her what she needed.

He stroked her forehead with his thumb as he stared into her eyes, obvious in his assessment of her condition.

When he spoke for the first time she found it impossible to concentrate on the words he'd said. Someone talking to her was alien to her ears, an anomaly that she was being addressed as a person and not treated merely as an object to play with and torment.

"Answer me, Teresa," his soft voice said to her once again.

His voice was soothing and gentle to her, kind even.

She tried to make sense of the words again, her brow furrowing in the effort it took.

"Just say the word, Teresa. Just tell me what you want. Tell me what you need and I'll give it to you willingly."

He pulled a syringe from his breast pocket and held it up to her to solidify his request.

She glanced at it in his hand. Her gaze extended, unable to draw her eyes from it momentarily. Then she quickly turned her head away from him and from it. "Go to hell," she grumbled, her voice croaky from lack of use.

Asking for the drug was different to being subjected to it without a fight. It was a blurry line but, even in her less than rational state of mind, she wasn't ready to cross it. She wouldn't ask for it. If she did then she was no better than the drug addicts she'd arrested. No better than her father to abandon all self-control and willingly go down that road.

A thin shred of hope rose in her that she tried to grasp. It would be hell but if they no longer were to inject her without her consent then perhaps she could get through the withdrawal side effects. Perhaps there was a way out of this for her, after all.

She heard the door close behind her and prepared herself for the battle ahead.

* * *

Cho caught up with Jane in his attic. Five days since Lisbon had been abducted and they were no further forward in finding her. The team had interrogated all those released within the past six months that she had a hand in arresting. Jane had practically threatened Bertram's life to get him to reveal what he knew about Red John. If it not for the rest of team insisting they required his help to find Lisbon he would have certainly been fired.

Jane stood in the doorway to the outside, his hands buried deep in his pockets and the now constant frown etched on his face.

Cho glanced at the makeshift bed, hardly slept in. "Lorelei Martins, have you heard from her?"

Jane turned around. "No. What does she have to do with this?"

"She's Red John's mistress. If you think he was responsible for taking Lisbon-"

"She didn't do this," Jane interrupted.

"How do you know?" Cho crossed his arms across his chest.

Jane turned back to the breeze outside again. He wasn't about to put another person at risk by revealing his part in Lorelei's escape from prison and their subsequent conversation. He shouldn't even have told Lisbon about Red John being someone he'd met. "Trust me, I know. Last thing she wants right now is to help Red John. She's not working for him any longer."

"You helped her escape federal prison," Cho stated. When Jane said nothing he continued, "You asked me how to break someone out, remember? Hardly rocket science to put it together. So, where'd it get you with Red John? I assume you turned her against him."

"It's better you don't know what she told me, Cho."

"Did you tell Lisbon?"

Jane sighed and nodded towards the ground.

"That's why you're certain this is Red John. Payback for turning Lorelei against him. Or to torture Lisbon for the information Martins gave you about him. See how much you know."

Jane walked further outside and leaned his arms on the stone balcony. Cho, in turn, took a few steps towards the doorway.

"I haven't turned Lorelei against him. Not yet, at least. But yes, that's the plan. And...yes...I've considered that's why Lisbon was taken now, it makes sense with the timing of this. As payback for helping Lorelei escape...or..." Jane shook his head, unwilling to confirm out loud Cho's theory about torture.

"She'll fight. Whatever you've told her she'll do everything she can to fight against telling him anything."

Jane swung around to him quickly with a sudden fire in his eyes. "Well, I damn well hope she doesn't. She should just tell him whatever the hell she does know so she can get out of there if that's what it takes. Lie if she has to. Agree to turning me over to him, whatever he asks of her. The information she has is a step towards catching him but hardly a nail in his coffin. Unless..."

"Unless Red John believes that she's holding out on him, that she knows more than she actually does."

Jane ran a hand through his hair. "I shouldn't have told her a damn thing in the first place."

"If he believes she has information it might be the only thing that's keeping her alive, Jane. As long as he believes she's keeping something from him then the longer he'll keep her alive."

Jane nodded. "Yes, but at what cost? And for how long?"

"That's why you keep driving off on your own. You're hoping he comes for you and takes you to Lisbon."

"Yes."

Cho rolled his eyes. "You're only going to get abducted yourself playing that game if it is him. And then what?"

"Then I'll do whatever it takes to get her released. Whatever terms I have to agree to."

"He's more likely to kill her in front of you."

Jane nodded as bile rose up in him. "I know that's a possibility. But at least if I'm in the same place as her I can try something."

"And what if this isn't him at all? You need to expand your thinking. What if you're wrong about all of this, Jane? And we've missed a lead we should have followed instead."

* * *

 _ **Brentwood, Maine.**_

 _ **Present Day.**_

The drive to the airport was a quiet one. Tiredness caught up with Lisbon after the first hour on the road and she fell asleep with her face turned towards Jane, her left cheek flat against the headrest.

Jane occasionally glanced towards her as he drove silently ahead, memories of many long drives together on cases hitting him. He would have once needled her to talk to him but he knew she needed the sleep if the dark circles under her eyes were anything to go by. At least she'd put on a little more weight than the last time he'd seen her in Sacramento. She appeared healthy. More toned. Fitter. And best of all - scrupulously clean of drugs. The first thing he'd done when he'd met her again was to look for signs of addiction. While skittish and uncommunicative with him, he knew she hadn't travelled down that road.

So, he'd let her rest, for now, knowing she was unlikely to sleep much later when she made her return to the city she once called home. Still, he smiled as he rounded bends to glorious vistas at every turn, the scenery even more beautiful with her comforting presence at his side once again.

Two hours in and she stirred, her nose twitching as she opened her eyes, blinking all around her to get her bearings.

"Good, just in time," he said cheerfully. "Was just about to wake you. I'm ravenous, let's get something to eat, there's a diner up ahead."

She stretched cat-like and straightened up in her seat. "What time is the flight?"

"Soon, but we have time for some refreshments first."

* * *

They sat eating sandwiches as they looked over a crystal clear lake, sun rippling off its waters. "It's a beautiful part of the world. Have you explored it much?" he asked her.

She shrugged. "Some. Days off I take my bike and cycle for miles. Some good hiking trails around here too."

"Mmm," he nodded, taking a sip of his tea. "Maybe I should take a vacation myself here when this case is over, sounds like a pleasant way to spend a day or two."

She arched an eyebrow. "Since when do you hike?"

He smiled at the humour in her tone, the smirk on her lips. "It's just a fancy name for walking, Lisbon. I am capable of that. You afraid I'd hold you back?"

"You don't have to do this, Jane," she said, her smile dropping after she took a long sip of water.

"Do what?"

"Pretend like we're going to see each other again. We both know that when I'm finished in Sacramento then that'll be that."

He shook his head slightly at her, frustration growing in him. "Remind me again why that has to be the case?"

"We've both changed. We're not the people we were once. We're both in different places in our lives. And...and that's okay. Friendships run their course sometimes."

He rolled his eyes. Under his breath, "Friendship, right." He threw the rest of the sandwich onto his plate and abruptly slid from the booth they sat at. He put some money down on the table. "I'll be in the car when you're ready," he bristled before he marched towards the door.

She joined him a few minutes later. He started the engine without speaking, his fingers tapping against the steering wheel and a scowl on his face.

"What just happened?" she asked him. "I didn't mean any offence back there, Jane. I just-"

"I know what you meant, Lisbon," he bit back. "That you're coming back in a strictly professional capacity. I read you resetting the boundaries of our relationship loud and clear."

She looked out the window to her side as her face reddened. "Thought that's what you wanted. You said as much yourself last night."

"I said we should focus on the case for the time being. I never suggested we shouldn't talk about...more than that at some stage. And you might be ready to give up on our...friendship - if that's what you want to call it still considering what happened between us before you left. But I'm not, Teresa."

She pulled her jacket around her as she continued to stare out the window to her side, her cheeks ablaze. "You said you'd do things my way. And I don't want to have that conversation with you," she snapped.

"Of course you don't. It would only remind you that you were once a living, breathing and passionate woman. Not some kind of ice maiden."

* * *

They barely said more than two words to each other the rest of the way and Jane fell asleep as soon as the plane took off. Lisbon re-read the case file fully, reacquainting herself with interview notes and victim information she never visualised reading ever again. She found she couldn't concentrate as the aircraft veered closer to Sacramento and, as she glanced at the flight map in front of her, she exhaled, her stomach somersaulting and almost every nerve in her body telling her to look for a parachute and an emergency exit.

"Sorry about before," Jane said softly, making her jump in her seat and finding his eyes trained on her face, concern written all over his features.

"Don't worry about it," she said, looking back to the file in her lap.

"I knew this day was going to be hard enough for you without me acting like a jerk. I'm supposed to be helping you through it, not thinking about what I lost a year ago when you left."

She turned to face him and her eyes circled his face. "We both lost that day, Jane," she said quietly.

"The difference is I'm willing to fight to rebuild it. Our friendship, I mean. I thought...I hoped when I came to find you that you would feel the same way as I did. Isn't what we had worth fighting for?"

A long moment passed between them. Then she cast her eyes back to the file. "I hope you can understand that I can't think about all that right now. And I can't just wave a magic wand and be who you want me to be again either, Jane. Now, you said you'd explain how you found the room, fill me in."

* * *

They touched down in Sacramento an hour later and trudged their way through the Airport with their overnight bags. Lisbon, unaccustomed to crowds after so long in the sticks, almost dislocated her shoulder blade as people nudged into her as they hurried back and forth in the departure lounge. Jane provided a steadying hand on her lower back as they weaved their way towards the parking lot. When they got there Lisbon removed her jacket and puffed out a breath. "God, it's hot here."

Jane chuckled as he nodded towards his Citroen.

"Oh god, you still drive that contraption?" she added with a grimace.

"Insult me all you like but leave my car out of it," he said with a smile. She was more herself now she was grumpy and sweaty, he mused to himself as they fastened their seatbelts.

"Okay, let's go," she said as she wiped her hands on her jeans.

His cell phone rang as he was about to start the engine. He glanced at the screen and then at Lisbon. "Hey, Cho."

Panic crossed her face but Jane's voice was calm as he replied to his superior. "Yes, I talked to her again this morning but still no dice. She doesn't want to discuss the case at all. Give me another day here; see if I can talk some sense into her later. You know how much of a stubborn ass she can be when she digs her heels in. I'm sure I'll be able to talk her around once she stops fighting against the inevitable."

She glared at him but it only made him smile more. "I'll catch a late flight and be back in the office tomorrow." His smile faltered. "Yes, I will remember to tell her that, too."

Lisbon watched as he nodded and frowned as he listened for a few more seconds. Before he hung up he said, "Oh, really? Okay, Cho. Thanks for letting me know. How about tomorrow? Fair enough. Thanks. Bye."

He furrowed his brow as he hung up.

"What did Cho want you to tell me?" she asked warily.

"That the place doesn't feel the same without you," he said softly. "He's right, Lisbon. The CBI hasn't been the same place since you left."

She looked down and sighed. "I'm sure you're all doing fine without me there." She looked back up at him. "You caught Red John without me, after all. I was so proud when I heard about that on the news."

"You should have been there with us. I...I wish you had been."

She saw sadness in his eyes and tears pricked at her own. "I...I couldn't-"

"I know," he smiled. "I understand. At the time I thought we'd caught the man responsible for tormenting you and that perhaps...well, by accomplishing that, it might bring you back to Sacramento. More than anything I guess I just hoped you'd get in touch afterwards. I could have used a friend to talk to after that night and some of the ones following it."

She took a deep breath as her own memories of those days resurfaced; only adding to the build up of tears. "I got your message that night. I'm sorry I never called you back, Jane."

"Why didn't you, Teresa? I mean, I understand why you didn't all those other times but...but that night...after what I said...after what I asked?"

When she didn't respond but instead looked more guilt-ridden than he'd ever saw her, he took a breath of his own as he placed his mask back on. "I'm sorry, I'm sure you had your reasons. Maybe you'll tell me about them one day."

She brought the conversation back to the case to stop herself from losing control and crying. "What else did Cho say? Got the feeling there was some kind of a problem."

He turned his tone conversational again. "Ah, that. Yes, we can't go and see that room alone together this afternoon, after all. Techs are still working there. Rigsby's at the scene, too."

"I thought they'd finished."

He shrugged. "I thought so too but Eloise wanted some new high-tech DNA thingy run over it apparently. So you'll need to wait until tomorrow before you get a look at it, I'm afraid."

"I only agreed to come so I could have a look today, Jane," she glowered.

"It's not my fault, Lisbon. How was I supposed to know? Forensics aren't exactly in my wheelhouse of expertise, are they? And she only requested it this morning."

She exhaled loudly. "Well, what the hell are we supposed to do now, then?"

"We have two options as I see it. We can still go there today and look around. It's just Rigsby-"

"No," she told him. "I don't want the team to know I'm here, you know that. What's the other option?"

He shrugged as he started the engine. "You stay the night and we go investigating by ourselves in the morning, what else?"

He watched her weigh the options in her head though he already knew which one she'd choose. Her apprehension of encountering her former team members far outweighed the thought of spending the night in Sacramento. He'd just had to pretend Cho was still on the line when he fabricated the story about the techs still collecting evidence. It seemed she'd forgotten some of his wily ways to get what he wanted in their time apart.

"Fine," she said, "just drop me off at a motel and come get me in the morning so we can get this over with."

"Nonsense," he said as he drove out of the airport. "You'll stay with me at my place. There's plenty of room for both of us. And I've been dying to try out this new recipe I found for chicken cacciatore. You're going to love it."

She gaped at him, too stunned to reply immediately.

He grinned in response. "Some things have changed since you lived here, Lisbon."


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8 - Settling In

 _ **Sacramento.**_

 _ **Present Day.**_

She was just about capable of speech by the time he'd driven them out of the airport complex. But he spoke again before she had the chance.

"Sold my house in Malibu a couple of months ago," he explained as he took the exit for downtown Sacramento.

"That's...that's a big change. So you live in Sacramento now then, full time, I mean?" she frowned. "I mean...in a house or an apartment building-"

"Well, I'm not taking you to an extended stay motel or the CBI attic for the night," he grinned as he glanced at her. His eyes on the road again he added, "Got myself a little place close to the office." He shrugged, "It's nice. I think you'll like it."

She shifted nervously in her seat. "Yeah, about that, Jane-"

He sighed. "It's getting late, Lisbon. It'll be dark soon and we've been travelling across country all day. We're both tired and hungry. I'm not going to interrogate you or make things awkward when we get there so don't fret. Just a place to get cleaned up and lay our heads down for the night. Get your brain in gear for whatever you'll face tomorrow. No need to make a big deal out of it."

She supposed he made a good point and said nothing further as he drove them closer to the city. And her anxiety about spending the night in the same place he slept was soon replaced by anxiety of a different kind. Landmarks she'd driven past for years began to come into view, reminding her again of the real reason for her brief visit and the most recent memories here she would soon relive. Raley Field soon passed by them and, as they drove over Tower Bridge shortly after, her breathing audibly increased.

"Do you need me to stop for a minute so you can catch a breath?" he asked.

She shook her head and played with her hands as she faced forward. "No, I'm...I'm okay."

"You won't be if you vomit in my car." He'd made his tone purposefully light but there was an underlying hint of worry entrenched in it he couldn't hide.

A short nervous chuckle escaped her at his joke and she looked over at him, noticing the lines drawn deeper in his face as dusk approached, the golden hues of the departing sun illuminating his taut expression. He kept his face ahead as he navigated quickly through traffic and she only realised in that instant that he'd visibly aged since last time she'd been here. A few extra lines marked his complexion and she knew she was the reason for some, if not all, of them. She wished she could make him care less for her, to remove the affection he clearly still felt, to banish the need to save her that he'd told her about that day in that shipping container years ago.

"If you keep staring at me like that I might think you're actually enjoying spending time with me again," he smiled.

Rather than turning away she said quietly, "I'm sorry."

He blinked quickly and licked his lips, his eyes on the road still, his tone sombre. "For what, in particular?"

She shrugged. Softly, "I don't know...all of it, I guess."

He pulled up at a set of traffic lights and turned his face and body towards hers fully. For a second he said nothing but merely stared at her, a line between his eyes as he attempted to read her. He shook his head when he was unable to manage it successfully. Gently, "All of it? You really mean that?"

She swallowed hard as his gaze penetrated her, seeking the truth from her like a guided missile honing in on its target. "I..."

The sound of a car horn beeping behind startled them both and broke the moment. Jane took a breath as he released the handbrake and they continued towards his place in silence, passing the Capitol Building on their way.

He soon steered his car into an underground parking garage, removing a keycard from his vest pocket to raise the metal barrier to allow them through. The apartment building was glass fronted and fairly nondescript from the street, set on a quiet tree lined avenue but still close to downtown and the CBI.

He killed the engine after he drove into an appointed space. "Well, here we are, home sweet home." He opened his door and added, "C'mon, then."

They rode up to the ground floor in a modern elevator, all shiny silver surfaces and scrupulously clean smooth buttons, so different to the one in the CBI. But being in a confined space with him again reminded her of the many occasions they'd spent in that rickety box anyway and a pang of longing surfaced for those days before her world was flipped on its head and she lost control of her life.

Silently they exited and he strolled over to the reception desk purposefully with her trailing behind him. He spoke to the slim man in his sixties behind the desk who smiled as soon as he saw Jane.

"Frank, this is my friend Teresa. She's going to be staying with me. Just in case you see her around here thought I'd introduce you."

Lisbon smiled nervously at the white-haired man behind the desk who shot her a brilliant smile. She also noted that Jane didn't mention she was only staying for one night.

"Nice to meet you, Miss." He shot a more knowing smile at Jane who coloured slightly and cleared his throat. "Any mail for me while I was out of town?"

Frank shuffled some papers around the counter and dug out a few envelopes wrapped in an elastic band, handing them over to Jane. "Your trip away was successful, then, Patrick?"

He shuffled through the letters. "Too early to say just yet," he muttered, casting a quick sideways glance at Lisbon as he did so.

Jane stopped and deposited all but one letter in the trash can on their way to the elevator. "Junk mail, I'd forgotten how tedious it can be."

"You didn't get junk mail when you lived in that motel?"

He shook his head. "Not really. Didn't give my address out to many for...obvious reasons."

She nodded as she looked down to her shoes. He was dead but the presence of Red John lingered on in conversations like a bad smell.

They arrived at the tenth floor and Jane nodded towards an oak door at the end of the corridor. "10A, that's us."

He took out a set of keys and opened the door, nodding for her to enter first. As he closed up after them she looked around. The place was nothing like she expected. It was a large open space with dark wooden floors, three floor to ceiling windows on one side with a view of the Capitol dome. They were on a corner unit so it was light and airy. The living area beside the windows housed a brown leather couch similar to his one at the CBI and a matching armchair that faced a red brick fireplace. Bookshelves and a small storage closet were set in a cosy nook sideways to the front door. Opposite the large glass panes housed the kitchen/dining area. A large circular cherry wood table that could comfortably seat six was the focal point of the area, with a galley kitchen facing it with bright cream cupboards and matching cherry wood countertops. For an apartment its ceilings were high and the place felt both roomy with the height and light and also cosy with its darker furnishings.

"You like it?" he said, slight nervousness in his tone, as he stood behind her.

"It's beautiful, Jane," she said, shaking her head. She frowned at some of the soft furnishings, a little feminine and chintzy she would have imagined for Jane to have picked out himself. A sudden shot of anxiety hit her in the gut. She hadn't even imagined Jane had perhaps started to date again but this place screamed that he was moving on and ready to settle into a life with some semblance of normality. And that would, she guessed, include dating again. Red John was gone, there was nothing to fear from recriminations if he did that now. Plus he was sure to have more time on his hands having shed that monkey from his back.

"Yes, I know," he said, a smirk on his lips as he walked towards the kettle and filled it. "The cushions and some other touches are a little much."

"Uh-" she said, with a shake of her head. "I never said anything."

He grinned at her as he turned the gas on. "You didn't need to."

She frowned. "I thought you said you had trouble reading me now."

He chuckled, "Didn't have to. So unless you've become a fan of Pottery Barn in our time apart I'm pretty certain a variety of cats embroidered onto cushions aren't your thing. Not exactly my thing either." Before she could ask why they adorned his couch along with some plaques with feel good messages scattered around the place and some other knick knacks that looked more like dust gatherers than anything else to her, he explained, "I swear it's the last time I give Grace my credit card. She said I needed some warmth in the place or it'd feel like a library. I should have known better."

Lisbon tried to suppress the bubble of joy that it had been Van Pelt and not some other unknown woman who had helped him furnish the place. She had no right to feel happy he was still single. He should be dating now, she told herself firmly.

He looked up from the gas hob. "Shall I show you to your room while the kettle boils?"

She nodded quickly. "Jane, are you sure-?"

"Yes," he said with a roll of his eyes. "You're staying here, no argument."

The last set of windows were actually a set of patio doors and he nodded through them to a small terrace area set out with a couple of wicker chairs and some plants in pots. "Gets the sun most of the day out there. It's a nice place to have a cup of tea in the morning and read the paper."

"Certainly looks like a nicer thinking place than the CBI attic," she said with a small smile.

He smiled back at her and showed her to a long corridor with three doors past the living area. He pointed to the bottom of the hallway. "That's my room down the end." He opened the door closest to them. "This is yours, bathroom is the door in between. But don't worry, you won't have to share, my room is ensuite so bathroom's all yours."

She glanced around the small bedroom furnished with a single bed and painted a soft restful pastel green. A small wardrobe and dressing table also sat inside. "Sorry it's just a single, not a lot of space-"

"It's lovely, Jane," she said, putting her bag on the bed that was freshly made up with white cotton sheets.

"You sure? Because you're welcome to sleep in my bed instead if you'd prefer." She watched him flush and lose his composure a little. He stuttered, "I...I mean...I can take this room and you-"

"I know what you meant. This is fine, Jane. Really. Stop fussing. It's perfect. Thank you."

He went to a cupboard opposite and removed some towels. "In case you want to freshen up before dinner. I'll get started on it. If you need anything just let me know."

He left her alone and she closed the door behind her and exhaled loudly as she looked around the small but immaculate room. It was only for one night and then she'd be back to Maine again where she belonged, she told herself. But she already knew Jane wouldn't make it that easy to leave and go back to her life in Brentwood. She steadfastly tried to ignore the part of her who didn't want him to.

* * *

Her hair still damp she walked barefoot towards the kitchen clad in a pair of black yoga pants and matching tank top, the smell of garlic and onion making her stomach growl in response.

She stopped short when she saw Jane at the stove stirring some sauce. His curls were damp and unstyled into any order, dark blond waves falling over his forehead. He'd obviously had a quick shower before starting dinner. But most out of the ordinary to her was that he was wearing loose light blue jeans and a white T shirt. He noticed her as he turned to chop some herbs and smiled warmly at her, his eyes quickly taking in her appearance and broadening his grin. "Nothing better than a hot shower after travelling all day, is there?"

"You're wearing jeans," she informed him, shaking her head slightly.

He laughed. "And you say you're not ready to be a detective again, Lisbon? See, your powers of observation are still spot on."

She blushed immediately. "I've...I've never seen you wear them before."

He shrugged as he began to pull at a bunch of herbs. "Then maybe you should have come back here sooner."

"You really have changed," she said, taking a long look around at where and how he lived now. This time there was wistfulness in her statement dosed with just a soupcon of envy.

He nodded towards the fridge instead of looking at her or answering her. Quietly, "Open the wine, will you?" He shot her a worried glance. "That is if you...you do drink wine still, don't you? Or-"

"Drinking alcohol was never my problem, Jane," she said, swinging the refrigerator door open with a little more force than was necessary.

"No, I know that, of course. I just...well, I noticed you don't drink coffee anymore so I wondered if you cut out all stimulants like alcohol, too."

"I still drink coffee. Just don't chug it back like I used to. Less stress in Brentwood compared to the CBI so I cut back on it."

"Oh. Sorry, didn't mean to-"

"It's fine," she sighed as he handed her a corkscrew from a drawer.

As she opened the bottle she said evenly, "I've figured it out, by the way."

He stopped his chopping briefly. "Oh? Figured what out?"

"There were no techs in that room today, were there?"

He bit his bottom lip and faced her. "No."

"You made it up to make me stay here tonight."

"Yes."

She nodded, her face expressionless. "Okay."

He frowned. "Okay? That's all you have to say? You're not going to lay into me for tricking you? Wow, I'm really not used to this new age Zen Lisbon, I have to admit."

She shrugged, ignoring his remark. "I understand why you did it. I was impatient to get it over with but, like you said, we've been on the road all day and we're tired. I have more chance remembering something after I've slept and it's brighter there, not getting dark."

"That's...very logical thinking."

"As long as that's the only reason you delayed it," she said, her lips turning thinner.

"Of course, what other reason could there be?"

A beat passed as she studied him. "I'm going back home tomorrow, Jane."

He shrugged then turned away from her and resumed his cooking.

* * *

Dinner passed in relative silence, Jane smiling as Lisbon devoured her food and complimented his cooking. "Who knew you were such a chef?" she smiled, more relaxed as she sipped on her glass of wine and an empty plate in front of her.

Jane smiled easily at her. "I've always enjoyed it. Nice to have someone to cook for."

"You don't...entertain much, then?" she ventured quietly as she played with the rim of her glass.

"Just the team, they come over for poker night once a week. Well, cases permitting. You know what it's like sometimes."

She nodded as she looked into her glass. "Yeah, I remember," she whispered. "Hard enough to grab dinner sometimes never mind have have time for a social life." She looked back up at him. "I'm glad, though. That...that they've been there for you."

She looked away again, troubling her bottom lip.

"Yeah...it's...it's been nice...but-"

"They play poker with you?" she said, swinging her head back towards him with a frown. "How do they have any salaries left with you in the game?"

He grinned. "Yeah, they don't let me play. I cook, they play. But occasionally I distract them to allow Rigsby to win just to annoy Cho if he's chewed me out over something or other that week."

She laughed out loud just like she used to, comfortable and at ease in his presence. His face lit up like a child on Christmas morning in response. She noticed immediately and stiffened, moving to take her plate and his to the sink.

"Leave those," he told her when he heard the water running. "I'll put them in the dishwasher."

"It's only a couple of dishes, quicker this way."

He joined her and removed a tea towel from a drawer. "Quicker again then with two of us. You know you were the only one who could give me a run for my money in poker."

"Pfft. You always beat me when we played."

"Yes. But you came closer than anyone to beating me," he grinned.

She rolled her eyes and handed him a plate. Their fingers touched as he took it from her and their eyes locked. He dropped his smile. "I've missed you. I...I don't think I've told you that yet."

She blinked quickly and took a breath as she pulled her hand back into the soapy water. "I've missed you too."

They continued in silence for a few moments.

"I've been thinking about who might be responsible," she said, her voice gaining strength again. "Just because there isn't a connection between Jessica and myself doesn't mean we don't have the same enemy in common."

"True. But nothing's come up so far enemies wise to link you to each other. While you have a number of people as a cop who'd want you...compromised, for want of a better phrase...Jessica Wells appears to have none. Though her husband wasn't capable of telling us that much about her life when we talked to him. In fact he was...pretty incapable of speaking much at all." He sighed, the sight of the newly widowed Jason Wells a haunting reminder of his own dazed existence following the deaths of his own family. "But we can talk to him again, hope for some insight that might help when he's had more time to process what's happened."

"Okay." She furrowed her brow in thought, unaccustomed to doing more than adding up bar bills in her head as her only means of mental acuity these days. "Then we should focus on my enemies for now, I guess. I know you said there are probably others apart from Jessica and myself but until we know that to be true for sure then there are no leads it brings us. So we look at my history first."

He smiled inwardly. She couldn't help herself investigate despite her protests to the contrary. "Who comes to mind first?"

"Tommy Volker," she replied immediately. "He was the first person who came to mind back then until..."

"I convinced you it was Red John," he said with regret.

"Doesn't matter about that now. So, Volker?"

"He would have been my go to sociopath also. But it's not him."

"Why not?"

"He's been in prison for months now. And we've checked his recent mail and phone calls, nothing that connects him to being behind this whatsoever."

She gaped in surprise. "He's in prison?! What for?"

Jane placed the dried plates in the cupboard above him. "Long story short? He tried to have a child killed who'd witnessed a murder he instigated on an employee of his who was going to blow the whistle on him. We caught him just in time to save the boy."

A smile spread across her features. "You caught him, huh?" The smile turned to regret she hadn't been part of it. That she'd let Amanda Shaw down when she'd promised to get her justice.

She turned to see Jane studying her closely. He told her softly. "Does it really matter who caught him? More important that he was stopped, right?"

"I guess so," she shrugged.

"It was a good day when he was put behind bars, I have to admit. Thought about you a lot that day."

"Wish I-" She sighed and stopped talking momentarily. "You called me to tell me about it, didn't you?"

He nodded with a shrug. "Yeah, but I was pretty used to you ignoring my phone calls by then," he said with a smile that never quite made it to his eyes.

A heavy silence encroached upon them again, the sounds of splashing water and the quiet drying of cutlery echoing in the kitchen.

Then he asked her, "Was it because of what happened between us? Was that partly why you left so suddenly? Why you wouldn't talk to me? Why you stayed away?"

She stared into the sink. "You said you wouldn't interrogate me."

Frustrated, "Aren't I owed some kind of explanation or are we just going to keep pretending we never slept together before you left?"

She took her hands out of the water and gripped the sides of the sink as she sighed, then looked at the ceiling as she shook her head. "No...well, maybe...I don't know, Jane." She looked at him with reluctance. "I honestly don't know the answer to those questions. All I know was that I had to get away. I had to put some space-"

"Between us," he said with a short nod and a frosty tone.

"Between me and what happened to me here!" she said with more vigour. She quietened her voice. "And maybe between us too after what happened, yes."

He nodded and looked down with a sigh. "All right."

She spoke with as much persuasion as she could muster. "Jane, you're doing really well now. Don't...don't live in the past any longer. You've moved on from Red John. You need to move on from me too."

He laughed mirthlessly and shook his head, running a hand through his curls. "You don't get it, do you?"

"Get what?"

"You think I've moved on from Red John?" He gestured to the space around him. "I thought of all people you'd know an act when you see it now. You're pulling off a remarkably good one yourself these days, after all."

She furrowed her brow. "I don't understand. This place, how you're living-"

"Because it's what I should be doing, right?!" he said, raising his voice. "Hell, I don't even know if I even like this place that much. But after Red John...what was I supposed to do? Run away? To where? Huh? You made it clear you didn't want me anywhere near you when you didn't return my calls. So where else was I supposed to go, Teresa? All I had left was the CBI. After he was dead I saw them watching me, Van Pelt had me on suicide watch for Christ's sake. Wouldn't let me go anywhere alone for fear I'd either do myself in or run out on them just like..."

He calmed his tone and took a breath. "So I turned one act into another. Made it look like I was doing fine, moving on and getting a life again. It made them happy. I felt like I owed them that after everything. Also thought if...well, if I lived this life long enough then maybe it would begin to feel real too somehow."

He shook his head. "It's how I read you so well in Maine. Your own act. You're doing there exactly what I'm doing here. Trying to pretend the past doesn't affect the present or the future by reinventing ourselves into different people. And maybe...maybe we can't be honest with everyone around us about that, both of us aren't exactly built for sharing, never have been. But can we at least be honest with each other that that's true?"

* * *

 **A/N: I'm on holiday this week so no further updates unless I find some time to write which is highly doubtful. Have a great week. And the flashbacks haven't finished, they'll be back next chapter. And thanks again for continuing to read and comment as nicely as you have, your support is much appreciated.**

 **By the way, apologies for (probably more than usual) spelling/grammatical errors in this chapter. I had to edit it without the use of Word.**


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: Thanks again for all the lovely words of support for this angst-ridden tale. And I rarely mention it here but I appreciate all the messages of encouragement on Twitter I receive for this and my other fics, they inspire me much more than you know and it's been wonderful getting to know some of you better since I joined last year.**

 **Apologies for not responding individually to each of the reviews last chapter. I was on holiday so thought it'd be better to spend my time writing a new chapter when I returned (also, FF was acting up again since then, making responding impossible for almost a week).**

* * *

Chapter 9 – Discovery

 _ **Sacramento.**_

 _ **13 months earlier.**_

She curled herself into a ball as the stomach cramps raged, tightening and tightening her insides until she almost wept from the pain. Her body began to shake and sweat seeped through her pores. "You can do it," she told herself, pulling her arms closer around her with a moan as another wave of agony hit her in the gut minutes after she finished vomiting a second time. "You can get through this, you're Agent Teresa Lisbon," she muttered quietly.

She began to give herself affirmations to cut through the throbbing pain and bouts of nausea. _You work for the CBI. You made senior agent before men ten years older than you did. You were smarter than any of them. You still are. You can get through this. You will get through this. You're tough. Strong. This will not define you. You won't let it._

As her body reacted with the physical effects of withdrawal she became more aware of thinking coherently again. The fog was clearing but painfully slowly. Her lackadaisical approach to her imprisonment was eventually replaced by planning her escape from it again. All she needed was another few hours recovery time and she could think of some way to break out. She would think of something. She had to.

The door opened to her side and she brushed her dirty caked hair from her face to peer in its direction. The doctor entered again. Maybe she could take him down. Then the two heavies appeared behind him again and she let go of a breath. No way of fighting three of them in her current state when she couldn't do it in her stronger state against two of them when she'd first arrived.

She narrowed her eyes at the man in charge, still wearing the surgical mask over his face. His guards wore their ghoulish white masks also. They still hadn't shown her their faces. A good sign that death was still not on the cards for her. The doctor produced a needle from his breast pocket and held it up to her. It took her sluggish mind a second or two to comprehend the meaning behind the gesture. Then she laughed in his face. "Go fuck yourself, you sick bastard. I'll never ask you for it."

He tilted his head to the side as he studied her and she saw a vague hint of amusement in his clear blue eyes. He nodded to the two other men who dragged her body across the stretcher, wrists and feet clearly to be shackled again. She tried to fight against it, shaking her head violently and flailing her limbs as best she could but she quickly ran out of steam and succumbed to the restraints.

"You should mind your language, Teresa," the doctor told her calmly when she was secured before he plunged the needle into a vein once again. As her eyes fluttered closed as elation spread through her she could just hear him say quietly, "And yes, you will ask me. You'll beg me for it."

This soon became the new 'game' between them. The doctor would inject her, leave her for hours until she began to go through withdrawal and then return to her and hold out a filled syringe, a silent request for her to ask for release. Twice she refused and the second time he'd left it so long between visits she almost imagined they were done with whatever experiment in drug addiction and subsequent withdrawal they were running on her. But hope vanished when the door opened once more. He began to talk to her more before he'd inject her, leading to more lucid conversations. He'd asked her why she continued to refuse the injections when she knew she would be subjected to the drug sooner or later anyway. He'd asked her why she was willing to go through the pain when he could put it at an end sooner.

"Pain is nothing," she told him on one occasion through exhausted eyes, a memory of Jane saying the same thing in Bosco's hospital room flitting through her semi conscious mind. "Means I'm alive still, still fighting," she'd whispered.

"Why does that matter? Your friends will never find you anyhow," he'd told her.

"I know," she'd said as she blinked tears away. "Don't care. I'll never do what you want. That would be giving up. You'll need to kill me first."

"But you've already lost the fight, Teresa. You're an addict now just like your father. You need to realise that."

She'd smiled, her lips cracking in pain as she did so, her mouth so full of stale saliva she could smell her breath stink. One downside to withdrawal was that her sense of smell was returning spasmodically. "Mind games, is it? Ha! You'll need to do better than that, doc. I haven't lost yet, you bastard."

"But why continue to fight when you have no means of escape or rescue? Why not be at peace than endure the torture you're putting yourself through time and again?"

"You're the one torturing me. Why?"

"Because it has to be done."

"Why me? Who are you taking your orders from?"

He'd merely smoothed the hair from her face in response before he readied her arm once more.

* * *

He began to leave her for longer spells, to bring her to the brink of craziness in her craving. Eventually she questioned herself like he had. Why was she prolonging the inevitable? What was the point in struggling? Whatever her fate was to be, her stubbornness wasn't achieving a damn thing. And maybe the next injection, if she gave up the fight, would bring her a final permanent release from the godforsaken hell she was now living in. He was right, she was an addict and there was no hope of escape from it in this life just like there was no escape from the damn room she was locked in. She had a sudden yearning for her mother, imagined her warm arms swallowing her in a hug, comforting and familiar, stroking her arms gently to lull her to sleep, her angelic touch removing the scratches and needle pricks and pain with every smooth pass. Maybe she'd be waiting for her on the other side of the veil...

At that moment the doctor came into the room and she looked at him from the position on the gurney with defeated eyes. Before he spoke she said to him, "Give it to me now. Please. I just want this to be over."

* * *

As day gave way to night the CBI bullpen became the shadow world it always did. Empty desks and quiet phones made the footsteps of the four remaining occupants echo louder against the wooden boards as they fetched beverages, the rustle of papers and the noises they made at their desks and couch more pronounced as they continued to work another double shift.

From his seated position on his couch Jane surveyed the remaining members of Lisbon's team, his gaze only briefly straying to the lifeless darkened cubicle further away, its door firmly closed.

Cho, with his usual expressiveness, was reading _Jude the Obscure_ by Thomas Hardy, a suitably depressing fit in keeping with the mood of the past fortnight. Though Jane had noticed he hadn't turned a page in three minutes so his frown of concentration was more likely due to Lisbon's disappearance and not the text in front of him. Rigsby was stuffing a hotdog almost sideways into his mouth, stress eating at its finest as his eyes scanned traffic cam footage around the docks on the night of her abduction for the hundredth time. The fact Van Pelt hadn't admonished him for his eating habits showed Jane the desolation she felt. Though she attempted to keep a positive attitude she could not keep up the pretence all the time, the strain of being a cheerleader exhausted by the late hour. During the days she mothered everyone around her as a coping mechanism, trying to fill Lisbon's shoes by bossing them all into taking breaks and eating at regular intervals. Though she tried hard, those shoes weren't fit for her to fill just yet and most of her advice fell on deaf ears.

As for Jane, he had been living off tea, fear and adrenalin with long spells of guilt and anger just to break the monotony. Often he imagined finding Lisbon imprisoned in some dark cellar, bloody and beaten, Red John's knife at her throat, her life drained as a wave of red rolled down her chest as the blade tore at her flesh, her green eyes piercing him with a vacant eternal stare like cold emeralds. He alleviated the pain of that scenario by picturing himself strangle the life from the killer afterwards, a dark smile crossing his lips as he watched him take a last breath. The face was obscured but the image gave him some satisfaction and enough fuel to continue on and make it through the day.

As the days lengthened the thought of never seeing her again became more and more real to him. He'd left her for six months, hadn't called her once and ignored her pleas. He'd justified it – to himself and to her - but as he sat here now, just two weeks without her, he had a brand new perspective on what she must have gone through in that time. It was a different proposition to what he was going through but the loss probably felt much the same.

He really had been a bastard to her. He wondered why the hell she put up with it, had allowed him to escape her wrath with a half assed apology, just grateful that he'd returned back into her life, had agreed to help him with a plan that could have ended with her losing her job - again. Of course, deep inside he knew why she did but he'd never dared go there with himself before now. But if he was never going to see her again he might as well be honest about it finally. He'd told himself it was her compassionate and forgiving nature, her need to mend those broken around her, her affection for him borne out of a pity she'd never admit to. But, whatever the truth of her feelings in the early days, the truth now was that she'd fallen in love with him. He mused that she must be the unluckiest woman in the world to have had such a crappy childhood only to fall in love with a broken man who could never be fixed and who wasn't capable of being a man she deserved.

Still, he allowed the words to form in his mind.

Teresa Lisbon loved him. He was loved.

A breath escaped him as some warmth seeped in his bones and a spark of something more lit up his nerve endings with a brief flicker of an emotion almost forgotten. Desire. He closed his eyes, allowed the feeling to wash over him further.

A phone rang and he opened his eyes quickly, his gaze extending to Cho who'd picked up the receiver.

"Cho. Yes, that's correct. What? What do you mean? Where?!"

The unaccustomed emotion in Cho's voice made the others look up from the desks. Jane sprang to his feet accordingly, his heart thumping in his chest as he stormed towards his colleague's desk.

A curt nod from Cho and he breathed out, still unsure if there was cause for celebration or grieving. "We'll be right there," Cho said, offering him a trickle of hope.

"Where?" he demanded as the others joined him around Cho's desk.

"She's at The Hospital. Let's go." He grabbed his jacket, Jane in front of him.

"What happened? How is she? Is...Is she all right?" Van Pelt stammered as the four of them shot towards the elevator.

Cho licked his lips. "No. But she's alive."

* * *

When she opened her eyes she found herself back in a room of white. No skylight overhead she frowned, wondering briefly if she'd actually made it to the pearly gates. She turned her head slowly to see an IV line in her left hand. Her eyes widened when she saw the figure that lay beyond. Jane sat in a chair at her side, his blond curls illuminated by the sun from the window behind him and his head bowed as he dozed. Another hallucination? She thought it might be, prayed that it was not.

She swallowed, her breath catching in her dry throat as she did so and producing a raspy cough. Suddenly his face shot up to hers, the surprise of the gesture stopping any further sounds from her. Sea green eyes met her emeralds in a frenzied gaze full of worry and she found it hard to catch a breath at the intensity of it. Had his eyes always been that clear? That colour? That utterly breathtaking?

"Lisbon?"

The sound of his voice made her whimper as more emotions she couldn't even begin to catalogue ran through her.

She'd thought she'd never hear him talk again. Accepted she'd most probably die without ever seeing that penetrating look into her soul that no one else had ever accomplished, ever again.

Both sight and sound combined almost undid her. If it was a dream or a hallucination she never wanted to wake up or come out of it. Maybe this was her version of heaven, after all.

He leaned forward, the lines in his face deepening, the heavy stubble on his face more noticeable. He took the fingers of her left hand carefully in his right and squeezed them gently as he avoided the IV. His other hand swept tenderly across her cheek. Softly, "It's okay, you're safe now, Teresa." His voice wavered then broke with raw emotion. "You're going to be okay," he reiterated through a ragged breath, squeezing her hand again.

She squeezed back tentatively and his face lit up with a beatific smile that made tears spring from her eyes instantly. "You saved me," she said, her voice weak. "You found me."

His smile faltered for a second and he shook his head. "Actually, no. You found us."

* * *

 _ **Sacramento.**_

 _ **Present Day.**_

He awoke the next morning having hardly slept. He'd stayed awake until the early hours, listening for the sound of his front door closing - waiting for Lisbon's disappearance from his life for the second time in his existence. After his declaration the night before a variety of emotions had swept across her face from surprise right through to suspicion. But she'd said nothing in response to it, only studied him with bright green questioning eyes before shoving past him towards the small sanctuary of his spare room, closing the door firmly shut behind her.

He heard the shower run in the bathroom next door and he hoisted himself from his own bed with a long sigh. By the time he made it to the living area he found her at the stove in the kitchen wearing tight dark denim jeans and a sleeveless cream blouse, her hair tied up in a messy bun as she moved a spatula around a frying pan on the hob.

"Good morning," he ventured, throwing his jacket over the couch before buttoning up the remaining buttons of his dark blue vest.

"Morning," she replied, briefly stopping her cooking to cast a sideways glance at him with shy eyes.

"How'd you sleep?"

"Good, thank you," she replied much too quickly, betrayed by the weariness in her posture. "You?"

He almost rolled his eyes at the painful politeness they were back exhibiting with each other again and he took a few steps closer to get a better look at what she was making. When he saw what it was a frown appeared on his forehead accompanied by a small smile of approval.

She cast a quick glance over her shoulder at him. "Kettle's boiled but might not be exactly boiled to your satisfaction or requirements for tea making so check before you pour yourself a cup."

"You're making me scrambled eggs," he said, peering towards the pan again. Then an image of Lorelei Martins hit him out of nowhere, clad only in his shirt doing the same thing, removing the slight smirk he'd had that Lisbon was cooking eggs for him and tainting the sweetness of the gesture.

"You like scrambled eggs still, don't you?" she replied, shooting him a longer look and frowning slightly at the mild discomfort she saw in him.

He recovered quickly and smiled easily at her. "Of course." He quipped, "Just trying to work out if you making them for me is a punishment for tricking you into staying here or an apology for leaving me in the middle of our conversation last night."

He touched the side of the kettle with one finger and turned the gas back on accordingly, "And you make it sound like I'm incredibly fussy about my tea, woman."

Well, two could play this dance of avoidance as much as one, he told himself. And injecting some lightness into the conversation was as good a way as any of breaking some tension.

"Guess you'll find out which it is when you try them," she remarked in turn, taking two pieces of toast out of the toaster quickly and depositing them and eggs onto the top of a turquoise plate beside the stove. She shoved it towards the breakfast bar behind her where a bar stool sat empty before taking a sip of tea from a bright green mug on the other side. "And fussy about your tea? Please, I'm surprised you don't offer a course in tea making etiquette though I doubt anyone would pass it if you did."

Jane filled his cup with freshly boiled water and a teabag and sat on the empty bar stool opposite her in front of the plate, his eyes twinkling at her. "A course in tea making etiquette? Why that's not a bad idea at all, Lisbon. I should get right on it. Perhaps I'll make you my first inductee."

He shoved a forkful of eggs into his mouth as she watched him for a reaction. They weren't actually that bad, quite tasty for a first attempt. He kept eating as he waited for her patience to run out.

"So?" she asked a second later, "which is it? Punishment or apology eggs?"

"I'm not sure yet," he shrugged. "I do prefer them a little looser in consistency but..."

"I knew I shouldn't have bothered," she said with an eye roll.

"Oh come on, don't let the first attempt put you off. Not even Edison succeeded at first," he grinned. He nodded towards her tea. "Aren't you having any?"

She pursed her lips. "Not hungry. I'll have something...after we..." she looked away and took a breath.

Serious, "I'm going to be right there with you, okay? I won't leave you alone in that room."

"I know," she said with a slight smile. "I know you won't." She opened her mouth to speak again then closed it just as quickly.

"We can talk about what I told you last night later, don't worry about that now," he said softly, reading her thoughts. She had enough on her plate with the impending visit back to that room than to worry about his neuroses currently. A pang of guilt hit him that he'd opened that can of worms as quickly as he had.

"Did you mean what you said, though? That you haven't moved on from Red John?" she frowned, unable to let the matter drop now it had been brought into the conversation.

"You think I'd lie about something like that?"

She licked her lips and played with the handle on her mug. "Not at first but then...I admit...I wondered if-"

"I said it to trick you into sticking around? Pray on that complex of yours to fix everyone, to fix me?"

She sighed. "It crossed my mind, yes. It's obvious you want me to stay here longer and...well, I wondered if maybe you'd said all that to make me worry about you and so in turn I'd feel obligated into-"

"It was the truth," he interrupted. "Is the truth. But I shouldn't have brought it up when I did. But, yes, I do want you to stay, Teresa. And not just because of this case. Maybe...maybe we could help each other somehow if you did."

She sighed. "Part of me hoped it was a deception," she admitted. "Because...I can't help you with moving on, Jane. I can barely..." her words trailed off as she set her mug on the counter quietly.

"You're already helping," he said, gesturing to the half empty plate in front of him. "This is the best breakfast I've had since I've moved in here." He smiled softly as he tried to catch her eyes. "Even with mediocre eggs."

She looked up at him from under her eyelashes and smiled back briefly. "Believe me, you deserve more than what I can offer you nowadays."

He shrugged, "Then make me better eggs tomorrow."

"It's not eggs I'm talking about and you know it."

"Meh, apart from eggs and tea I have remarkably low standards in the behaviour I expect from my friends." Softer, "That is if we are still friends. Are we? Is that something you even want still?"

She held his gaze for a moment before nodding quickly. "I'd like that, yes. But-"

"No buts," he said, placing another forkful of eggs eagerly into his mouth with a smile. "And no take backs either."

* * *

Jane drove them through Sacramento, still early for much rush hour traffic. To stop from thinking about what lay ahead Lisbon made conversation. "It's a nice city, isn't it?" she said, looking out the window to her side.

"It has its good points but I'd still prefer to be nearer the coast."

"You could buy somewhere there again if you wanted."

He shrugged, "Meh, for what? Me to go there alone at weekends and brood like I used to?"

"Is that what you did?"

"Mostly. And when I needed more space than the attic to think."

"About Red John."

He paused. "Sometimes. Sometimes...other things."

She turned around in her seat. "Like what? Your family?" she prodded.

He sighed gently. Quietly, "Yes, them and...and you, of course."

"Oh." She coloured slightly. "Before or after we...uh...?"

He turned his head quickly and smirked at her increasing blush. "Violated the prime directive? Had some rumpy-pumpy? Did the hibbety-dibbety?" He began to chuckle.

"Jane!"

He shrugged. "Oh come on, Teresa, we may as well laugh about it if we're to going to try to get past it, right? And to answer your question...both before and after we made love. After more so, naturally. And after Red John...well, you know the answer to that already, I'm sure."

She watched as all humour left his expression and was replaced by pensiveness. "Is that where you were when you called me that night? Your house in Malibu?" she asked him softly.

His lips pursed into a thin line, he nodded as he stared out of the front window then made a turn to the left. "And on that dreary note, here we are," he said solemnly, pointing to a large red-bricked building in front of them as he cut the engine.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10 – White Rooms

 _ **Sacramento.**_

 _ **13 months earlier.**_

"What do you mean, I found you?" she said to him, her voice scratchy.

He reluctantly let go of her hand to grab a water jug from the table beside them and poured a small amount into a plastic tumbler as he explained. "You just showed up in the emergency room this evening. To begin with...they didn't know who you were and you were barely conscious."

He omitted the part where she'd first been diagnosed as a run of the mill junkie who had sought refuge for the night and had hastily been pushed to the back of the queue, only her collapse in the ER and the eagle eyes of a kindly nurse alerting the others in attendance that she was the missing CBI agent who'd been on the news.

He omitted raising bloody hell when he'd saw the state she was in when he arrived. He'd flown past the doctor who was explaining her condition to Cho and the others, opened every door until he'd found her. He'd had to do a double-take when he had, his legs almost buckling from under him when he'd seen her for the first time in weeks. Petite already, she'd shrunk even further in size, reminding him of a child in an adult's bed as she lay under the covers in the private hospital room. She was unconscious, attached to a heart monitor and drip, and he'd tiptoed in to get a better look at her. A large bruise covered her left cheek, turned yellow and purple by the passing of time. He imagined it was a week to ten days old by the discolouration. His ire increased when he saw her dark hair matted against her skull, her soft sleek chestnut tresses turned into a greasy lank mess the colour of crude oil. He noted her fingernails, broken and dirty, the skin around them chewed away into angry red blotches.

He'd blown his lid at the doctor who approached with Cho and the rest of the team a few seconds later. "Why hasn't she been washed?! I want her cleaned up now, do you hear me?! You worried her insurance won't cover it? Fine, put it on my tab-"

"Jane," Cho had cut in, steadfastly refusing to look at the figure in the bed until he dealt with Jane's outburst, "they were right not to. We need to gather trace evidence from her before that can happen. Techs are on their way. You know the procedure and it's what she would want done." Cho, to his credit, held his ground between a highly aggrieved Jane and the doctor, who looked frightened for his life.

Eventually, Jane had taken a shaky step back, nodding furiously. Of course, Cho and the doctors had been correct but his heart had constricted and he'd lost any rationality as soon as he'd seen her. The small figure in the bed wasn't _his_ Lisbon and he had desperately wanted to rid her of the marks of the past fortnight as soon as possible.

He'd turned his voice to a whisper. "All right. What-What happened to her? Why isn't she awake?"

His world, already spinning wildly on its axis, came crashing down around him as the doctor explained what she had been subjected to from their observations.

...

He jolted himself out of the memories of the day before and smiled at the now freshly cleaned Teresa Lisbon before him. "Can you manage a sip or two?" he asked her.

She nodded, looking around her surroundings more clearly. She tried to sit up in the bed but Jane was ahead of her, cranking a button on the metal frame to raise her head and pillows up instead. "Just relax, let the wonder of mechanics do the work for you," he smiled.

She saw the worry behind his relaxed bedside manner and glanced at her arms as she shifted in the bed. She watched his eyes flicker to them briefly, saw his brow crinkle in response, noticed him attempt to stifle any further anxious reaction. They were bandaged up but she knew what lay beneath, could tell he did too.

"I've no idea how I got here. I can't remember," she admitted.

"We checked security footage but either you were left outside the entrance or somehow made your way to it. Somehow you staggered your way into the ER."

She frowned. "I need to make a statement on what I do recall."

"There's no rush on that," he said, sitting back down opposite her again. "I know it's pretty stupid asking you this but, how are you?"

She thought about his question for a few moments before she shrugged. "I have no idea, really. This doesn't feel entirely real just yet. I thought I was going to..." Her words trailed off and she bit down on her bottom lip to stop tears welling up.

Jane swallowed, shifted his questioning to more practical matters before he lost the ability to think straight. "Were you kept in the same location all the time?"

She nodded and fidgeted with her fingers, noticing her nails were filed neatly for the first time in days. She felt her hair, soft again around her shoulders. She'd never been one for long hairdressing appointments or manicures but she almost wept at feeling clean for the first time in ages. Clean on the outside, at least, she tagged on to her thoughts.

"Yes. A white room." She glanced around her. "Similar to this one, actually," she said quietly, looking back at her hands again. Then her eyes shot up to his again and she added quickly, her tone suddenly panicked, "But damn it! I never saw their faces, Jane."

"You didn't?"

She shook her head wildly. "No, never. I thought it was a good sign-"

"That it meant they didn't want to kill you? Yes. Well, that part must be true although...although they came pretty damn close, Lisbon."

"How bad a state was I in when I arrived here?"

He shook his head, attempted a cheery smile. "Let's just say I've seen you look better."

"That bad, huh?"

"Doesn't matter," he shrugged. "All that does is that you're back."

She nodded. "Yeah, I just wish I could identify them-"

He took her hand again and rubbed its fingers gently to relax her and to feel the reassurance of her touch in return. "Hey, it's okay. Don't worry about it."

"What was it?" she asked after a second or two, after taking a sip of the water offered in his other hand.

Distracted, "Hmm?"

"What was I injected with?"

He blinked twice. "You were never told what it was?"

Tears pricked at her eyes that she swallowed away. "No."

He dropped her hand and settled the cup back on the table. Then he got up from his chair and swept his hand through his hair. She could feel the rage radiate off him as he paced the few steps back and forth beside the window, his hands tucked deep in his pockets. "Some kind of heroin compound," he said quietly with his back to her.

"I thought it was something like that," she replied, surprised at the lack of emotion in her tone.

A few beats passed in silence between them. Then she suddenly realised she wasn't suffering from dreadful withdrawal, that she could coherently think and talk. Her eyes flew to the IV line in her hand. "What's in there? I want it out of me. Now." She went to pull at the tube and Jane rushed over to still her hand.

"You need fluids, Lisbon. Just for a little while. You're severely dehydrated."

She caught his eyes. "That's all that's in there? Some kind of saline solution? You promise?"

His brief hesitation was enough for her to push his hand away roughly and pull the IV from her vein. Blood erupted and squirted from the top of her hand immediately and she grimaced in pain. "I'm done with being some kind of lab rat, do you hear me?!" she yelled at the top of her lungs.

Jane grabbed a tissue from beside them, his eyes on stalks at her sudden burst of energy and anger as he attempted to staunch the blood flow. "Jesus, Lisbon! You need what's in that IV. You think I'd allow them to inject you with something they shouldn't?"

"What is it? Methadone or something like that, right?" she countered, her tone feral.

"Yes, but-"

"No, Jane! No more damn drugs. No more, not ever again. You can get addicted to that stuff too. I'm not swapping one drug for another!"

He grasped her hand tighter to clot the blood. "The heroin withdrawal will be too painful without it, Teresa. And the dosage will be regulated, less and less each time so you won't experience the severity of withdrawal side effects. Just for a little while, okay? It'll be controlled and it won't be forever."

"No," she said, pulling her hand away from him. Her anger was replaced by a flood of tears moments later. "No more," she whispered through her sobs. She put her hands up to her face and wept openly before him, her knees against her chest as she rocked back and forth. He stood beside her for a few seconds with his mouth hanging open, unsure of what to do. He'd seen her lose a few stray tears over the years but never break down like this. The sight of her, the strongest woman he'd ever known in his life, so lost and fragile in front of him shocked him to his core. Part of him was afraid if he comforted her she'd only push him away further. But the temptation to hold her in his arms was too great and he moved swiftly and pulled her against him. "Okay," he whispered. "Okay, if that's what you want. No more."

She flung her arms around his neck and cried. "Promise me," she whispered into his ear through ragged breaths.

Through choked breaths of his own, "I'd promise never to cause you trouble ever again right now if that's what you want," he said as he began to stroke her hair. "Or a trip to the moon. Whatever you want, Teresa, it's yours."

She drew her head back from him, her red-rimmed eyes staring into his. "Then get me out of here," she said, her breath catching in her throat. "I just want to go home, Jane. Please just take me home."

He began to rub her tears away with the pads of his thumbs. "All right. I'll see what I can do."

* * *

 _ **Sacramento.**_

 _ **Present Day.**_

"This is it?" she frowned. They were in a fairly run down but quiet neighbourhood just on the outskirts of the city limits. The red brick exterior housed a detached three-storey building that looked industrial in nature by the grey steel double fronted door and the functional uniform half bar windows on each floor. It was set off the main road with a padlocked metal fence covering its entrance, its concreted driveway extending towards the back of the property.

Jane responded, "It was a branch office of a bank that had to downsize when the economy took a hit. Been closed for a few years. Smaller branches in the less populated parts of the city had to close, I guess."

She hadn't consciously thought about it until this moment but she'd conjured up an image of something much more devilish than a nondescript rectangular structure as the scene of her imprisonment. It seemed much too ordinary to have borne witness to the horror inside. Although she wondered why she'd ever thought it would be different for her. After all, she'd seen enough crime scenes in her day to know the depravity of what sometimes lay inside buildings just like the one her eyes were trained on now.

"I know, appears frighteningly innocuous, doesn't it?" he added at her side as they sat in his car.

"It was raided by accident?" she confirmed. "That's how it was found?" She shook her head at the unlikely turn of events that had brought Jane back into her life again.

"Yeah, FBI had been watching 4130 Lobella Avenue for some time, suspected a counterfeiting operation was going on there and enlisted help from Sac PD when the time came to move on it. But there was a mix up in the chain of command somewhere along the line and some units from Sac PD went to 4730 instead. So instead of finding counterfeit cash-"

"-They found Jessica Wells instead." Lisbon nodded thoughtfully. "She was dead when they found her, according to their statements."

Quietly, "Yeah she was. But only just."

She nodded, talking more to herself than to Jane. "Mmm. One of the officers reported her body was still warm and that he made attempts to resuscitate but it was too late. Coroner confirmed it was a massive heroin overdose as cause of death."

A beat passed in silence. Then she turned around in her seat to face Jane and not the building. "They killed her and made their escape when they saw the cops coming, that's what you suspect, right?"

He nodded. "Yes. Cameras were found on the roof that gave them clear line of sight of the road in either direction. Sac PD sent in four or five SUVs to participate in the raid so highly noticeable in a quiet neighbourhood like this one. There's additional parking and an exit around the back behind the fire door. They could have been on the freeway within two minutes if trained to move quickly. Which they obviously were."

"And Sac PD would have only looked at the specs of the building they were supposed to raid, not this one so-"

"They would have been gone before the cops even realised they had the wrong address."

"Traffic cams?"

"Blind spot, unfortunately."

She huffed, "They pick their locations cleverly. Same as the warehouse where they took me. Makes it virtually impossible to track them."

"Yes, I doubt it's a fluke in their choice of venues. They're meticulous in their planning."

She nodded. "All adds up to some kind of military or ex-military involvement. You already suspected that because of their ability to disappear fast as well, I assume?"

"And the larger male you told us about, you thought he was a veteran, right? Seems to point that way, wouldn't you agree? That whoever is in charge recruits ex-military or mercenaries for muscle or perhaps even assistance with operational planning."

"Yeah, sounds about right. Happy to take orders, do what they're told and stay quiet for a quick buck." Bitterness spilled into her tone and she exhaled sharply thinking about the man she'd repeatedly begged to let her go only to have silence greet her in return as a response.

"You okay?" Jane asked softly, noticing her loss of composure.

"Fine," she snapped, taking a deep breath. Her thoughts turned to Jessica Wells instead, easier for her to remain detached when she focused on someone else's misery than her own history in the building beside her. "Jessica was only missing for two days prior to them finding her...that's not nearly long enough time for him...them...to go through their normal routine."

Her voice picked up speed, a crinkle appearing in her brow as she thought, "So, if you're right about there being other victims then chances are they'll try again as soon as they've had time to find and set up someplace new if whoever's in charge didn't get the thrill they wanted this time."

He smiled in admiration as he noticed the cop in her resurface with passion. "I suspect so, yes."

She sighed and nodded grimly. "Then we better hope I find a lead in there." She pushed her shoulders back and unbuckled her seatbelt. "Okay, let's get this over with. Hope you brought your lockpick set with you for that padlock on the gate."

He tapped his vest pocket with a short smile. "Never leave home without it, Lisbon."

* * *

Once inside she saw him watching her carefully, quite obvious in his appraisal of her mental state with every step they took. Her eyes scanned everywhere as they made their way to the top floor by way of a white stone staircase inlaid with black metal posts, bypassing what was once the main customer service area on the ground floor and the small offices that lay beyond it.

"Nothing?" he couldn't help ask her as they stood in the corridor on the top floor, the silence encroaching on uncomfortable.

She shook her head. "I don't remember how I got into that room, or how I got out of it."

He pointed to a room at the far end with a white door. "That's it."

She breathed out slowly and nodded. As she made a purposeful step in the direction towards it, he brushed his fingers across her lower arm to stop her. "There's something else you might want to see first."

"What is it?"

He nodded to a door a few feet away. "The...observation room, for want of a better description," he shrugged.

Her eyes widened slightly. "Oh. Okay."

A few steps later and they entered it. It was a small enclosed office like any other but she felt a chill in her bones immediately and drew her jacket around her for comfort. A psychosomatic response that didn't surprise her. She'd made a mental note of the evidence found and removed from here already – monitors and a camera, blank tapes.

"They took the tapes of Jessica Wells with them?" she confirmed as she drew her hand across the only desk that remained in the room. The existence of tapes had come as a mild surprise to her when she'd read the case file, the implication of them personally shaming and hard to bear.

"Yes, we presume so."

She nodded and swallowed slightly. Someone had watched and recorded her from the very spot she was standing in. Had watched her distress and torment, her mighty tumble from strong badass cop to a wretched pitiful mess. Not only watched it but more than likely enjoyed it, kept recordings of it to relive the thrill over and over, again and again. She felt the anger swell in her and turned her right hand into a tight fist before taking a deep breath and relaxing it slowly in an attempt to calm herself down.

"You should embrace the anger, Lisbon," Jane said at her side, "not fight it right now. If anything, it'll help."

She turned sharply and squinted her eyes at him. "How will getting angry help?"

"It'll help with your focus."

She scoffed, "You think I'm not focused on what I need to do in that room?"

"At the moment you're focusing on Jessica, not yourself. For what happens next, you need to think about what happened to you in there, not her. You need to stop distancing yourself from the trauma if this has any chance of success. You need to remember it, embrace it even. You need to face it."

"That's why you wanted me to come in here first," she stated. "To get...riled up. To put myself back in that room again mentally before I see it."

He licked his lips and shifted on his toes as he looked to the ground. "Yes. I wish there was another way and...you must know how much I hate putting you through this-"

Neutrally, "You're not. I agreed to come and do this, Jane. There's no guilt in this for you, okay?"

He looked up at her again and shook his head. "Hard to break the habit of a lifetime."

* * *

A minute or two later, he nodded to her and opened the door at the end of the corridor. An expanse of white hit her in the face and she took a step back from the door frame in response. She closed her eyes and breathed out.

"I'm right here." Jane's soft tone sounded in her ear, his fingers lingering on her lower back. How often had she dreamt of him saying those words to her when she'd been imprisoned here? Of finding comfort in the softness of his touch?

She opened her eyes with a nod, searching the room with them before taking a step forward. The gurney and the table had been removed but the steel toilet remained. She recalled the multitude of times she had her head bent over that thing. Tentatively she walked inside. She turned to Jane. "Can you...just wait at the door, just to make sure-"

"It stays open? Of course." He leaned against the door frame, his hands shoved into his pockets as she left him behind.

She stood in the middle of the room, a chill going up her spine again as she looked around. She stared up through the skylight, willing something useful to come to her that could be used to catch those responsible. Something other than pain and addiction and misery. Even with the door open and Jane's presence it still felt like the walls were closing in on her. She fought hard against the impulse to flee.

A few moments passed as she silently viewed the small space over and over, staring at the walls and skylight, even at the toilet basin for some new information that might help, some clue to the identity of those responsible. Finally, she uttered, her tone defeated, "Damn it, I-I can't remember anything new, Jane. Nothing." She shook her head and shrugged. "I'm...I'm sorry."

He took a step forward and saw the panic in her eyes immediately at him leaving his post at the door. He stopped and said, "I'll be right back. You okay?"

She nodded with a frown. Less than a few seconds later she heard him outside pulling something off a wall. He returned with a red fire extinguisher and lodged it against the open door. "Okay?"

"Uh?-"

"Just so I can come in," he explained.

"Right," she nodded. "Sorry, I'm...I'm being a neurotic mess, I know there's no lock on the door and it's perfectly safe here now, it's just-"

"You don't need to explain," he said with a soft smile as he came to stand opposite her in the centre of the room. "And as for being a neurotic mess, I'd say you were coping admirably, considering the circumstances."

"Thank you but this was still a waste of time in any case." She went to move past him.

"Maybe not," he said, making her stop and look at him again.

He licked his lips and she picked up on his anxiety immediately. "You're talking about hypnosis, aren't you?" she said, more a statement than a question.

"Just a light trance."

"I don't know," she replied quickly, the thought of having her mind probed in this room accelerating her heartbeat. She'd lost control of herself once here already; the thought of it happening again was terrifying.

He took her two hands in his and looked deep into her eyes. He spoke purposefully. "I'm not going to trick you into it. It has to be your decision. But you know it's the best chance we have at producing a result."

"You could have had me under by now if you wanted, I know that. I appreciate you...you giving me the choice."

"You're in control, Teresa. Not me. Certainly not your memories of this place. And if you don't want to do it that's okay. We might catch a break with forensics."

A beat passed. "And you might not. So...no, it's not okay. And I need to try everything I can while I'm here or there was no point coming at all." She nodded and swallowed thickly as she looked down, mentally preparing herself. "Okay, in for a penny as they say."

"All right then. You need to close your eyes, you know how this works."

When he felt her pulse rate increase he grasped her hands tighter in his, turned his voice smooth like silk. "I'm right here with you, Teresa, I'm not going anywhere. Nothing can harm you now. You're here with me and you're safe."

She glanced up at him quickly, a flush coming to her cheeks at the memory of him saying similar words to her before. He flushed in return, stammered, "I-I swear that was not where my mind was just at."

She emitted a short chuckle, surprising both of them and shook her head. "I know. But, well, it broke the tension some, at any rate."

"And turned up the temperature in here by about ten degrees thinking about that night," he smiled. He turned his tone serious again and squeezed her hands. "Now, ready?"


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: Thanks again for continuing to read what is rapidly becoming my favourite fic ever to write although it breaks my heart sometimes. I think this is my favourite chapter so far. Hope you like it too.**

* * *

Chapter 11 - Recollections

 ** _Sacramento._**

 ** _13 months earlier._**

They gazed into each other's eyes for seconds as he wiped her tears away gently, the walls they created to keep others out wholly demolished, a fragile bridge between them taking their place. In an attempt to rebuild hers, she drew back fully from him swiftly; embarrassed by the rawness of the emotions he'd just witnessed and cast her eyes to her lap again to escape his blue-green stare. She sniffed and pulled a tissue from the box on the nightstand to blow her nose and regain control. "You'll talk to them now?" she asked quietly, her gaze still averted. "You'll get me out of here?"

When he hesitated she looked up at him again, saw uncertainty wash across his face, the regret of his promise. "You said you would," she said with a defiant tilt of her chin. "I need to get out of this room and get back to my life, Jane. I don't need to stay here. You hate hospitals, I know you understand. It's not like I need medical treatment anyway, I wasn't beaten-"

"Yes, you were. You have bruises, cuts and scratches, Lisbon. Not to mention what else..." His words fell off into silence and it was his turn to fail to look her in the eye.

Determined, "Barely any and only because I tried to fight back or escape. They never beat me just for the hell of it."

"No, they merely injected you with heroin day in day out instead. A wholly more civilised method of torture," he snapped, his tone harsh as he misplaced his anger and directed it towards her. He closed his eyes briefly and breathed out. "I'm sorry," he said softly, "I didn't mean..."

"It's okay," she said. "I know you're angry at what happened and not at me. Now, please do whatever you need to do to get me discharged and get me something to write down my statement on. I want to do it now."

He nodded with a sigh. "All right. But what about the withdrawal? You're going to go through hell taking it on cold turkey like this."

She shrugged. "I'll deal with it when I get home. I'll get through it better there. Okay?"

He clicked his tongue as he pondered for a second. Then he sighed with a defeated fall of his shoulders. "If you're sure that's what you want. I'll...I'll go and organise it in a minute or two."

He nodded with a sad smile and turned his back on her as he looked out the window, placing his two palms flat on the windowsill. He looked to the ground. "I'm so sorry, Lisbon," he said in a whisper. "I'm sorry I ever came to the CBI. I should have never involved you in any of this. I shouldn't have allowed myself to get close..." He took a breath. Louder, "I should have found another way-"

"Jane, what are you talking about? What has your coming to the CBI got to do with this?"

He turned swiftly towards her, ignored her question, barely aware she'd asked one. "Did he send a message for me?"

She frowned. "What? Who?"

He mirrored her frown as he took a step towards her again. "Red John, of course. He was the one who took you." His voice battled between anger and pain as he pointed to her arms. "Who...who did this to you."

Her brain was still taking its sweet time in catching up to fully engage in intelligent conversation and her response was delayed as she continued to furrow her brow. Finally, "Why on earth would you think that?"

He stumbled back to his chair again and stared at her left arm. Equally as confused, "Tell me what happened to you."

She explained all she could remember from the first days of captivity, her memories increasingly sketchy as the days wore on and the timeframe all but nonexistent. She kept to the facts she remembered and left out the sense of abandonment and despair she felt with each passing day. Her gaze confined itself to her lap mostly, unable to look at him for much of the conversation as she recounted the details. He said little in response, prodded her gently only occasionally, and stopped when he thought she might become distressed. She knew he read more about her emotional state in what she omitted than in what she communicated.

He focused on her statement than pushing her into exploring the maelstrom of her feelings, or his own on having just being given the facts of her imprisonment. "So this...doctor...or whoever he was...he just injected you time and again? No explanation? No reasoning behind it? No name he called himself?"

She shook her head. "No. I asked, of course, time and again but...he wouldn't tell me a thing. He barely talked to me at all. None of them did."

Shame stopped her from telling him about the conversations she and the grey haired man had shared as she'd battled withdrawal time and again and the fact she'd finally submitted to her torturer's wishes. It wasn't as if revealing those facts would lead them to her captors any sooner anyway, she reasoned.

He could tell there was more she wasn't saying, something she was embarrassed at admitting to just yet. He would only coax her so far and let it go. He took her left hand gently again and turned it to the other side. He tapped the spot just above her wrist. "What do you remember about this?" he asked softly.

She stiffened immediately. "What? The needle marks, you mean? You know how I got those, Jane."

He shook his head. "Not the needle marks. The face there."

She gasped, "The fa-face? He scored a face into me-"

"No," he reassured her quickly. "Just drew a face with a red marker there like he did with that little girl at the cemetery that time. It was a message for me, to make sure I knew it was he who took you."

She frowned, her fingers itching to remove the bandages and see it for herself.

"It's gone now," he told her, "when the nurses cleaned you up I had them remove it."

"You think the same man who drugged me is Red John?"

"No. Only that he works for him. Lorelei told me I knew Red John, so the likelihood is that you know him too as we spend so much time together, wouldn't you agree?"

She frowned. "I guess-"

"Ergo, it's unlikely he'd put himself in front of you every day even with a mask over his face. If it wasn't his plan to kill you all along then he couldn't take the chance on you discovering his identity by voice...body shape...posture, etc. But you said there was a camera in that room, and that is who was watching you from another location, I believe."

It still didn't make sense to her. "I just don't think it was him, Jane."

He drew his head back from her. "Why not?"

She shrugged, "I-I don't know. Didn't...feel like him to me. And...why wouldn't he tell me if it was, even through the doctor?"

"Maybe he did. Maybe he hypnotised you as well as drugged you so you'd forget."

"No, it wasn't like that. That man never mentioned you at all. If he was a disciple of Red John he'd have talked to me about you. Asked me about Lorelei Martins and what I knew about what she'd told you, surely."

"From what you remember he didn't. But your memories are patchy at best, especially the latter days. And how do you explain his mark on you if it wasn't him?"

"I-I can't right now. But I think I'd remember if someone mentioned you no matter when it was, I wouldn't forget something like that."

He looked sceptical and she added, "And if it was him then why didn't he just kill me after he got whatever information I knew, assuming I told him what I do know, which isn't much? Why go to all this trouble and allow me to live? This...this just isn't his style."

He flexed his fingers together on his knees as he looked at them. "For you...for you, he'd make sure he did things differently. He wouldn't necessarily follow the same pattern he always has." His voice quietened further to barely a whisper. "And...nor would he necessarily want you dead either. Not yet."

"Why not?"

He licked his lips and brought his face back up to hers. "Because he knows...he understands that you're special to me, Teresa. He wanted to punish me for helping turn Lorelei against him, not annihilate me entirely."

She looked down to her hands, unable to cope with the array of emotions his words instilled in her. She wasn't ready to delve into that minefield in her current condition. Quietly, "Jane, can you...can you see about getting me out of here now? And I'd like to write everything I can remember down too. Maybe something else will come to me if I do that."

* * *

When he left the room he puffed out a large breath of air and closed his eyes as he put his back to her door. Lisbon's words as she recalled her torture would haunt him in his nightmares for a long time. She'd been clinical describing her ordeal and he understood the need for that currently, the need to detach herself from the trauma she'd suffered. It would only last so long before its long shadow claimed her.

"Oh my god, what happened to you?" Van Pelt gasped as she left a seat outside Lisbon's room to rush to him. His mind elsewhere, he hadn't even noticed she was sitting there.

Jane frowned then followed her eyes to his hands. He'd forgotten about the blood on them. "Just a slight problem with the IV," he reassured her with a smile.

She shook her head, her anxious expression making it obvious he wasn't putting on a convincing show. "How is she?"

He bit the inside of his cheek and shook his head. "About how you'd expect, I guess. Emotionally she's..." He shrugged and took a deep breath. "But she'll be fine, I'm sure," he nodded, more to reassure himself than his colleague. "Just need to give it some time."

"Can I see her? Is that a good idea?"

"She wants to make a written statement so yes, go and do that with her. Just don't push her. Let her set the pace and talk about what happened as she wants. Don't worry about timelines or the like, just let her talk. Try not to show pity, you know she hates that. I've spoken to her but I'll talk to her again to get a clearer picture of events when she's feeling stronger. Right now...right now, just be her friend and listen. Okay?"

"Of course. What are you going to do now?"

He looked away for a second. "I said I'd get her released."

"What?! What about her treatment?"

"She wants it discontinued. Forthwith. She was quite clear on that point."

Grace glanced at Jane's bloody hands again. "Oh, crap. Does she have any idea how hard it's going to be getting cleaned up on her own?"

"I'm sure she does but she wants to do it this way anyway. It's her decision and we have to respect that, Grace."

"But-"

"It's what she wants. She lost control over her entire entity the past fortnight. She wants to reclaim it so right now so we do what she wants to help her do that. So if that's making a statement, going home or cleaning up by herself then we support her. All right?"

* * *

He returned thirty minutes later. Lisbon had fallen asleep and Van Pelt was sitting in the chair opposite her when he entered the room quietly. They nodded to each other and he gestured for her to follow him outside.

"How'd it go?" he asked.

"Fine, I guess. She was...standoffish mostly. But...well, that's Lisbon, I suppose but...colder than normal, more detached."

"Understandable. She give you a statement?"

"Yeah, but doesn't tell us much to help find them." She handed him a handwritten account from Lisbon that he scanned quickly. It largely mirrored what she'd told him and gave them nothing new to help identify her attackers. "God, Jane, it's just terrible seeing her like that and hearing her talk about-"

"Yes, I know," he nodded, cutting her off as gently as he could. He wasn't in the mood to cajole Van Pelt or listen to another account of Lisbon's torture, Grace could cosy up to Rigsby later for any sympathy she required.

"Is she getting released?"

"Yeah, they're preparing the paperwork now," he sighed.

"I don't think she should be in that condo by herself. Not right now. You think she'd let me stay with her, just until she's over the worst of it?"

He nodded with a smile. "I'll make her be okay with it. I'll get her set up there first, though. I've arranged for a security detail to keep watch outside her place. Just...just in case."

"Good."

He added sincerely, "Thank you, Grace. I know it's not going to be any picnic for you. If it's too tough we'll get some kind of rota going."

"I can handle it."

He smiled again. "I know you can but everyone has their limits. She's not going to be pleasant company when the withdrawal kicks in."

"I'll be okay." Concerned, "How are you holding up?"

"Me? Oh, I'm fine," he lied effortlessly with a smile.

* * *

 ** _Sacramento._**

 ** _Present Day._**

"Sleep."

He had her under in less than ten seconds and felt her fall forward toward his chest. He breathed in her scent and smiled as he allowed it to wash over him for a second or two. She still smelt like cinnamon, at least that was still the same. He pushed her back gently so he could look at her in the face but kept hold of her hands to stop her swaying.

"Lisbon, you feeling okay? You know where you are?"

It was only a light trance so she was practically lucid but just incredibly relaxed. He could have brought her under further but he didn't want to add to any trauma she felt if he pushed too hard, he wanted to make sure she still felt in control of the situation.

"Yes," she murmured. "And I'm in that damn room again."

"Okay," he smiled. "I want you to focus on the people you saw in here last time you were here."

"Three men. But they always wore masks. I never saw them."

"Maybe you didn't see their entire faces but did they wear long sleeves or short sleeves? You reported they were all Caucasian so some of their skin must have been showing. You reported their hair colours."

"It's all I remember."

"Just take your time, remember that nothing can harm you in here now but I want you to live in those details, focus on those glimpses you saw of them. I want you to remember the room then as you're in it now, as clear as you've seen it today, breathe in its smell, picture the white walls, gleaming and bright, imagine the gurney, the table."

She shook her head. "I'm...I'm trying but..."

"Bring your mind back to when you first saw those men. Later memories will be...corrupted because of the opiates in your system. Focus on the earlier memories."

He went on to ask about the man who injected her but nothing came that helped with his identity. A setback Jane was unhappy about. He wasn't sure how he fit into the piece, still - if he was the perpetrator in charge or just another hired hand. The fact Red John was not involved dismissed every pet theory he'd had initially so he had to start afresh.

He had the feeling she was holding something back with regards to that particular monster but his gut told him it wasn't his identity, there was no reason for her to refrain from revealing more about that. Instead, it was something she was ashamed to admit. He recalled feeling the same way when he'd first questioned her, that there was a truth she hadn't admitted to back then either. As she became increasingly flustered under questioning about him he moved on to the other men instead. He made a mental note to talk to her about the man in the white coat later, though. He would coax whatever it was out of her, just in case there was information that could help.

"Tell me about the guy you kicked in the face," he asked.

She breathed out with some relief and a smile made its way across her features that made him smile in response. "That was a good moment," she said quietly.

"I'm sure. What did he look like?"

"Red hair, skinny, short...about five six, no more."

"Did he say anything when you whacked him?"

"No. I told you they..." She frowned, her words trailing off.

"What do you remember?" he asked.

"He...he swore at me. A few times actually when I fought back. I...I forgot that."

"Understandable that he would. Accent?"

She furrowed her brow further before relaxing it again. A small smile. "New Orleans."

He raised an eyebrow. "That's...pretty specific. Are you sure?"

She nodded. "Yes. He sounded...sounded just like a guy I hooked up with there one Spring Break years ago. Wasn't him, of course...but his accent was the same."

Both his eyebrows shot up. Maybe she was more in a trance than he realised for her to so easily reveal that particular nugget of information that he could use against her in the future. He smiled, "Oh? Is that so?"

"Yes, I'm sure of it."

"Good. Anything else about him you can remember?"

After a few seconds where she screwed her face up she shook her head.

"That's okay. It's more than we had. Let's move on to the taller one. The one you thought was in the army. Now, remember him clearly. Any accent?"

"He never spoke."

"You're certain? Think hard."

She was quiet for a second as she did so then shook her head. "No. I-I definitely can't remember him speaking at all. It was...unsettling that he never made a sound."

"That's okay. We got something on the other one-"

"Wait," she said, her voice picking up speed. "He had a tattoo."

"A tattoo? You're sure? I remember recalling I thought it strange he didn't. Most veterans have one at least."

"It's on the left side of his neck. I...I can see it clearly now. At least...half of it...the other half is hidden under his shirt. It's a set of dog tags, Jane...I can only see one of them, though, the second one is under his collar, I can just see the corner of it."

"Dog tags? You're sure?"

She nodded. "Yes...and...and there are initials on the one I can see."

His voice picked up speed. "What are they?"

She smiled. "J-M. I'm absolutely positive."

He smiled in response. It was a very good lead. After a few more questions where no new information came to her, he tapped her shoulder to bring her out of the trance.

She opened her eyes. "Tattoo's a good lead, isn't it?" she said, matching his thoughts. She let go of his hand and took a look around the room again. "Can we get out of here now? I don't want to spend another second here more than I have to."

* * *

They parked up at a diner a few blocks away. They sat at a booth by the window and Lisbon watched the traffic outside. "I was no more than two miles away from headquarters," she said quietly with a shake of her head. "It's hard to imagine that, even now."

Jane nodded, looking at the table. "I actually drove past that building once during that time," he said. "Drove right past it when you were inside and being subjected to what that bastard..."

He licked his lips and exhaled.

She looked back at him. "When are you going to stop blaming yourself for things that aren't your fault?"

He raised his head, shot her a smirk. " _You're_ really asking me that question? You might have had a point once upon a time but I don't think you have a great deal of solid footing now where-"

She waved off his comment. "Fine. You've made your point."

They sat in silence until the waitress deposited a piece of pie between them with a wink, shortly followed by their two cups of tea.

"Thanks for the pie, Jane." She shoved a piece of crust stuffed with blueberries into her mouth. "I thought I wouldn't want to eat after but..." She shrugged, "guess facing your demons makes you hungry."

He sipped his tea and dug a fork into the pastry with a devilish wink. "Do you mind?"

"I got used to you eating my food a long time ago," she said with a small smile.

He grinned as he ate a chunk. "God, that's good."

"It's not bad," she admitted.

"As well as finding delicious pie, I'd say it was quite a productive morning, wouldn't you say?"

Impassively, "Tattoo's a lead of sorts, I suppose." The drive to the diner had only allowed her time to think about the leads she'd remembered, the tattoo being the more significant one. She knew what would be required of her next and it tarnished the feeling of triumph she had felt.

"Tattoo's a very good lead, Lisbon. One we can follow." He pointed his fork at her before he cut off another piece of pie with it. "And that, my dear, is a cause for celebration," he added, his voice muffled as he shoved his fork into his mouth.

"Why...why did I only remember that tattoo today? Why didn't I remember it back then?"

He swallowed his bite and shoved the plate back towards her again to tuck in. "I'm guessing because you weren't in that room back then. You were missing the stimuli you needed to recall details more clearly, its smell, seeing it all somewhat more lucidly. Plus, you were..."

"Half out of my mind at the time," she finished for him.

"Hmm. Well, I wouldn't go that far but that would explain why you allowed me in your bed, certainly."

She coloured slightly. "From what I recall I didn't give you a whole lot of choice in the matter."

He grinned widely. "I had choice enough. But you did make some pretty persuasive arguments, I'll agree to that."

Through another blush she rolled her eyes at him and watched the lines in his face disappear and a relaxed smile brighten his complexion instead as he drank his tea. She sipped her tea slowly and sighed, shaking her head at him with another eye roll.

"I can't do it with you, can I?" she said finally. "As much as I try."

"Do what?"

"You know what. Pretend. Act...normal...average, cold, whatever. You were right in Maine. I was hiding there. Hiding who I really was. And you know why, don't you?"

"Of course. Because you hate who you see when you look in the mirror. The mask makes it bearable to act in public. Not for you, you find it impossible to see anything but anger, shame and guilt inside of you. You do it for them, the people around you. Allows you to interact with others without them either pitying you or fearing you."

She nodded. "Sounds familiar. No wonder you saw through it so easily."

"Indeed. But do you know what the real truth is, Lisbon? The one that I still struggle with but am learning to accept gradually?"

"No, but I have a feeling you're about to tell me."

He leant forward and pinned her with a piercing stare. "Sometimes we're the worst people in diagnosing who we really are. Sometimes it takes someone else to look at you to view your whole self. Holding a mirror up to yourself only achieves a flat image in reflection, it makes it impossible to view all sides."

She raised an eyebrow. Her tone dripped with sarcasm. "You taken up pop psychology since we saw each other last?"

He smiled. "My point is that you saw me for something more than I saw in myself for years. Just as I see in you now."

A beat passed as she considered his argument.

Then, dispassionately, "You see who you want to see. You see her. You see the woman you used to know."

She looked out the window to her side again, her voice almost a whisper. "She died in that room, Jane. Just like Jessica did. She's been gone a very long time. I tried to be her again...I thought I could be..." She shook her head, "But I've since accepted that I'll never be who I used to be. Some experiences change you forever." She stared at him again and spoke louder with conviction. "You, of all people, know that's true."

He looked to the inside of his cup and bit his bottom lip in thought. As he looked up to answer, her face was set in grim determination. She said, "But it seems you'll have your way, after all. I know what I have to do next. And so do you."

He nodded, relieved at her words but had to make certain she wasn't making her decision in the heat of the moment. He needed to be certain this was her choice, it wouldn't work if she felt backed into a corner by him to make it. "I could have Van Pelt check out the tattoo databases we have on file at the CBI for you. You've given us enough information to get some matches with any luck," he reasoned. "Doesn't mean you have to go back there. You could still be on a plane back to your humdrum life in Maine this afternoon."

She licked her lips as she shook her head. "You knew once you got me back in that room again I wouldn't be able to leave Sacramento until I saw this through, didn't you? And to do that it includes facing the team again. And I better do that sooner rather than later before I lose my nerve."

"I wasn't sure what you'd decide if I'm being entirely honest. You're much harder to read now. Haven't quite got the knack of it...not yet. But yes, I hoped you'd feel that way, Teresa."

She nodded. "I might not be her anymore but I'm still pissed as hell about what those bastards did, you were right about that. So let's catch these sons of bitches and make sure no one else has to die. Let's make sure they've taken their last life."

He leant back in the booth, the cup at his lips. He smiled. "Are you quite sure she's dead? Because that speech sounded a lot like a pep talk a certain CBI agent called Teresa Lisbon would have given if she were still alive."

She slipped out of the booth, ignoring his statement. "Come on, drink up, let's go."

He smirked, "Yes, ma'am."


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N: Thank you for all the wonderful comments on the last chapter, it's so rewarding getting such positive feedback. This chapter feels like a little bit of a filler to me (but also necessary to pace the story, I thought). Moving it on at a faster rate would have perhaps led to it becoming jarring, I felt. But I have some more action packed scenes to come soon. All that being said, I hope you enjoy it anyway.**

* * *

Chapter 12 - Acclimation

 _ **Sacramento.**_

 _ **13 months earlier.**_

Lisbon entered her condo, closely followed by Jane behind her. A musty smell of disuse hit her and a stray and almost surreal thought occurred to her that she'd need to throw the last loaf of bread she'd bought into the trash followed by the milk in the fridge.

She was exhausted by the time she made it to the couch as beads of sweat littered her brow and her head felt like it was in a cement mixer full of rocks. She was coming off the Methadone already; she could feel her body cry out for something to salve her.

She watched as Jane opened a top window beside the door then stride into her kitchen like he owned the place. She listened to him rummage around the cupboards there, then the rustle of plastic bags and the sound of her bin open and closing. Sometimes she had to wonder if he really wasn't psychic, after all. After hearing the sound of a tap running and shutting off, he came back into the living room carrying a large glass of water and a packet of the hydration salts she'd been discharged with in his hands. He placed them on the coffee table in front of her and raised an eyebrow. "Drink all of it, now," he ordered her, his gaze unyielding.

She exhaled loudly and rolled her eyes but did as he asked. She didn't have the energy to argue and perhaps dehydration was affecting her more than the withdrawal. Well, she doubted that, but could hope it was true. And she was parched either way.

"Thanks," she said, scraping her hand down her clammy face as she replaced the empty glass on the table, "for bringing me home, I mean. I'll be fine now, Jane. I promise I'll drink fluids and eat something. Stop worrying. You should get back to work; see if there are any leads. I'll call you later."

He sat down beside her instead. "Withdrawal started?"

She shrugged. "I'll be okay. Just...just leave, will you."

"Lisbon, I'm not letting you go through this by yourself."

"Jane-"

Determinedly, "Lisbon, I'm staying. And Van Pelt's coming over later to stay the night here."

She gaped at him. "Oh sweet Jesus, are you serious?"

"Perfectly."

She rolled her eyes and laid her head back on the couch as the pounding in her head exacerbated. "All of you don't trust me to be by myself now, is that it?" she barked. "Afraid I'll head over to Oakpark and start shooting up now I'm home?"

"Of course not." He sighed heavily. "We're worried about you, that's all. We just want to be there for you until you're feeling better."

The rocks in her head spun faster and faster as her body bathed itself in perspiration. She snapped, "Yeah? Then where were you when I was in that fucking room? Huh? Tell me that? That's when I needed you, not now."

She watched guilt sweep across his face before he covered it up with neutrality. "We tried everything we could to find you. You must know that." He shook his head at her in disbelief. "And Christ, what happened to _sheep dip_ , since when do you swear like a sailor?"

She rolled her head forward again, casting him a dirty look as she got up from the couch with an unsteady step. He went to help her up but she shook off his hand. "Just leave me alone, Jane. It's what you're good at, after all. And tell Van Pelt I'll shoot her if she tries to come here and mother me."

She called to him from the bottom of the stairs. "I'm going to sleep. Let yourself out."

* * *

He'd read the drug addiction pamphlets at the hospital and had spoken to specialists in the field there. Cho, too, knew a little about it from his background, and he'd mentioned a cousin of his who had a severe crack habit that had ended in his untimely death at seventeen. All in all, Jane was as prepared as he could be.

Addiction wasn't the same for everyone, some people were entranced by the first high and forever raced to find it again. Some could function quite well in everyday life for months until it gradually took over their every waking thought. But all were consumed by it in the end once it had its hold on them. He could relate to the last statement on a personal level, reminiscent of his own addiction in the hunt for Red John.

In Lisbon's case, luckily - if there was any comfort to be found in what had happened to her - it had been forced upon her, making the odds of her taking drugs of her own accord again wholly unlikely. Her stubbornness would be her greatest asset in succeeding, in beating the craving she'd feel and in dragging her back from the brink. But the appeal of that rush would torment her. Maybe for a few days. Or maybe for a few weeks. Or maybe it would forever claw at her like a dog incessantly scratching a door begging to be let in.

He knew she meant none of what she'd said, that the past weeks' events coupled with the beginnings of withdrawal were messing with her emotions and shooting them out Russian Roulette style to whoever was in their path. Sometimes they'd be passive and fire blanks and sometimes they'd be aggressive and have enough velocity in them to inflict brutal damage. She'd just made a direct hit with her comments, that much was certain. But he could handle whatever she threw at him; he loathed himself enough that any insult flung his way would barely scratch the surface of his hardened soul to cause any real harm, even if the marksperson was Teresa Lisbon.

He clicked his tongue, making an instant decision. There was no reason for anyone else to suffer the same wrath; it was his fault she was in this mess in the first place and his responsibility to see her through it, no one else's. The progress he'd made in discovering Red John's identity he'd put on hold until he had.

He delved into his pocket and removed his phone, dialling a number. "Grace, it's Jane. There's been a change of plan but I still need your assistance."

* * *

He stayed downstairs, staring aimlessly at the television on mute for an hour. He'd currently lost the appeal of wildlife programmes after his tryst with Lorelei Martins still fairly fresh on his mind. He'd tuned into some daytime game show instead, inwardly reciting answers to the questions that popped up on screen as a man with teeth far too white and far too large for his face laughed inanely back at him from the screen. He may just have killed himself years ago if this was how he would have to normally spend his downtime from hunting Red John. Or driven himself back into the asylum again. He had no idea what he'd do if he didn't have the CBI to keep himself semi-sane. If he didn't have the woman he'd met there in his life to keep him from spiralling out of control.

Three times he'd gone to the bottom of the stairs before stopping himself in order to check on her. She needed rest and he just hoped she was getting some. He listened for sounds upstairs but, apart from a soft pitter patter of feet across floorboards and a sound of a bed frame creaking he'd heard none after the first minute or so of her retreating to her bedroom.

A knock came to the door and he checked the peephole and saw a flash of red hair. He opened the door with a smile. "Hey, Grace. Thanks for stopping by."

He took hold of the two grocery bags in her hands and pointed to the kitchen with a nod. "You get everything I asked for?" he said, as he began to remove vegetables from a bag.

"Yeah, I got her a tub of her favourite ice cream too," Van Pelt replied. "I know it won't help her much but I couldn't think of what else I could do."

"It's thoughtful and a nice touch, Grace. Thank you. So, any developments in finding out who did this?"

She shook her head. "Nothing, Jane. Cho got Forensics to put a rush on the trace evidence but they came up blank. Some kind of white resin under her fingernails. Painted concrete, they said. And common white paint sold at any hardware store. Rigsby checked with Narcotics but the heroin compound they used on Lisbon can be bought on pretty much any street corner if you know where to look. They're putting the word out with CIs they have in that world, and will ask them about any recent new customers who might have stood out amongst the regulars but-"

"-Whoever did this may have simply paid a regular to get what they needed and thereby placing another firewall between themselves and the supplier. They could have got their hands on the heroin weeks ago for all we know. This was planned; it wasn't a spur of the moment abduction. They had that room and the drugs waiting for her when she arrived."

"Yeah, that's what we reckoned too."

He sighed wearily. "She said she was in a room of white, so no surprise on the trace found either."

"Anything else you want me to check out? We're...well, we have no other leads, Jane. Don't know where to look next."

Another sigh. "Not at the moment." He eyed her out of the corner of his eye, noticed the pulse in her neck race. "Spit it out, Van Pelt," he said without looking at her as he felt the ripeness of a mango. "What else do you have to tell me?"

She stammered. "Uh...Bertram, he was asking-"

He turned to face her quickly. "I don't want him anywhere near her," he snapped.

"He's her boss, Jane. He came by the Hospital to check on her but she was already discharged."

"I don't care who he is. He's mixed up with Red John somehow, I know it. If he comes here he won't be allowed in."

"You're being paranoid."

"Isn't it my call to decide who comes and goes from my house or have I lost that right too?" a shaky voice said behind them.

Jane raised his eyes to the ceiling and turned around. Van Pelt did the same, looking immediately to the ground upon seeing Lisbon's glare. "Hey, boss. How are you feeling?" she asked quietly.

She looked awful and was wobbly on her feet, attempting to hide it rather unconvincingly. "Why are you out of bed? I thought you were resting," Jane said.

"Why are you still in my house? I told you to leave." She swayed a little and held onto the door frame, grimacing slightly. _Stomach cramps_ , Jane assumed.

He responded calmly, "And I told you I wasn't going anywhere."

"So, what is this, changeover shift?" She waved a hand at Van Pelt. "Deciding what's best for me, is that it? Like I don't have a mind of my own anymore."

"Grace just stopped by with some groceries. We've decided I stay here with you, not her."

Lisbon shook her head at him in disbelief. "You mean you've decided that because your word is law now, right? Apparently, what I want doesn't matter in the equation."

He noticed sweat make a reappearance across her brow, saw her blink wildly to stop the feeling of nausea take over her.

He took a breath to quell his frustration. "Lisbon-"

"I think I better go," Van Pelt intervened quietly as she watched her boss and her consultant continue to stare at each other across the kitchen.

* * *

 ** _Sacramento._**

 ** _Present Day._**

"You sure about this?" Jane asked as they drove towards the CBI as he noticed her playing with her hands beside him.

"No, but I'm doing it anyway," she shrugged.

"They'll be pleased to see you, Lisbon."

"That's what I'm worried about," she grumbled.

He smiled as he nodded. "Ah, I see. You'd rather they were mad at you. You're worried about the outpouring of affection you'll most likely receive when you walk in there."

She turned to look at him. "Wouldn't you in my shoes?"

He chuckled softly. "Definitely," he grinned.

Without thinking she raised her left hand to whack him on the arm then stopped herself, withdrawing it quickly and running it through her hair instead. She frowned and looked the other way again, confused by a flash of her sudden familiarity.

He watched her out of the corner of his eye, saw her battle with the affection she still had for him. Her admission of the mask she wore to the world had connected them to each other again with more of a shared understanding, even if that connection was still a largely tenuous one presently. He was sure it was one she would no doubt fight to break free from, fearful she'd come to rely on it and rid herself of her current Lone Ranger status. But it was progress, in any regard. His smile grew a little.

* * *

They made it through the Gate Security with a minimum of fuss. Tommy still worked there and he'd raised an eyebrow at Jane's passenger but had greeted Lisbon warmly upon her return. They exited the vehicle and she took a deep breath when she saw the familiar red brick building staring back at her like a reproachful old friend that she'd stopped calling.

The second security checkpoint was more difficult. As Jane arranged a visitor's pass for her she stood beside him like an awkward wallflower at a dance. People coming and going that she'd worked with for years either found it difficult to meet her eyes or compensated for their awkwardness by being over friendly. A year away and she was going to be the subject of water cooler conversation once again. She flinched inwardly as her breathing accelerated.

"Just the last hurdle to go," Jane said as he pressed his fingers into the small of her back and walked her towards the elevator. Relieved it was empty except for the two of them she exhaled loudly as she went to hang her pass around her neck. Jane reached across her to stall the elevator and she glanced at him quickly, her expression more than alarmed. His eyes twinkled mischievously. "Wow, you really think I'd try to seduce you in an elevator? What are we? In some bad rom-com?"

"No, of course not. But why-"

"Because you're in danger of hyperventilating. Take a couple of deep breaths then we'll get this thing going again."

As she was about to instinctively argue back she realised he was right as her heart pumped loudly in her chest. She wasn't used to this many people on a daily basis and none who knew of her pathetic downfall. She nodded gratefully and breathed out. She picked up her visitor's pass from around her neck and looked at it. "Never thought I'd wear one of these in this building. Feels weird."

He smiled softly and reached over to pull her hair out from under the cord attached to the pass. He fixed it gently around her shoulders and their eyes met in a questioning gaze as his fingers lingered in its ends a fraction too long. A silent beat passed between them in the dim light of their enclosed space. Then with an audible breath, he pulled back from her quickly and pressed the button to start the elevator again as he cleared his throat.

They rode in silence for a long moment, both staring straight ahead once more. To cut through the charged atmosphere, Lisbon offered quietly with a shake of her head, "God, Van Pelt's going to hug me, isn't she?"

He smiled as he equally regained his equilibrium. "I'd bet a million dollars on it."

* * *

"Was that Forensics?" Rigsby asked as Van Pelt replaced the receiver on her desk phone.

"Yeah, they said they found DNA from four different women on the gurney but are still going through samples found. Looks like there could be more, Wayne."

He made his way over to her. "So Jane's theory was right, that it wasn't just Lisbon and Jessica Wells who were abducted. There were others-"

"Did you ever doubt me?" Jane's voice said behind Rigsby's back as he hovered opposite Van Pelt's desk.

Rigsby turned around, and he and his girlfriend's eyes shot to the small figure standing beside the consultant.

"Hey, guys," Lisbon said quietly. She shrugged. "How have you been?"

"Oh my god! Boss!" Van Pelt jumped from her chair and encased Lisbon in a tight embrace. "It's so good to see you again."

"Thanks, Grace," Lisbon said as she tried to pull away rather clumsily.

"Give her space to breathe, Grace," Jane said.

"Sorry," Van Pelt said, moving back with a grin. It fell a second later as she looked at Lisbon with concern. "How...how are you?"

"I'm good, thanks," Lisbon nodded with assuredness.

Jane watched Lisbon place her mask back on, no doubt brought on by the worry in Van Pelt's eyes. She then turned to Rigsby who looked about as awkward as she most likely felt inside. "And you both?" she asked.

"Yeah...we're...we're good thanks, boss. It's...it's so good to have you back."

The second time that word was spoken in seconds made her lick her lips in agitation. "Thank you but I'm not your boss anymore, guys," she said with a well practiced fake smile.

"You never said she was coming back," Van Pelt grinned at Jane.

"Well, you should know by now I prefer to show than tell, Grace," he smiled. He looked at Lisbon sideways who was now staring at the brown leather couch beside them before her eyes roamed over the rest of the office with an air of wistfulness and regret.

"Lisbon, you're back," Cho said behind her, making her draw her gaze around to him instead. A slight curve of his lips was the only indication he was pleased to see her. She breathed out, more grateful for his stoic nature than ever.

"Hey, Cho," she said. "Jane filled me in. We think we've uncovered a lead that might prove useful."

He nodded, appraising her appearance quickly before he nodded again. "Good. Let's discuss it in my office."

Jane and Lisbon followed behind him, her eyes drawn to the new name on what had once been her door. Once inside Cho elected to stand with his back to the front of the desk than sit behind it. He nodded to the white couch in the room for them to take their places.

They filled him in quickly on the developments of the morning.

He responded to Lisbon. "We'll set you up with a laptop, have you trawl through the tattoos we have on file."

"Any progress in enabling me to search through keywords or is it still the same system?"

"Same system. You can search for generalities like words or animals, etc but that's about it. Been trying to get the system upgraded for quicker results but-"

"-For budgetary reasons it's not a priority," she finished for him.

Cho nodded with a fraction of a smile. "Same old, same old."

Jane noticed his two colleagues' interactions with amusement as they bonded over bureaucracy. Lisbon was less skittish in Cho's presence, knowing he'd focus on work than question her emotional state right out of the gate. It didn't mean he wouldn't watch out for any signs of stress, though, he'd simply be more circumspect about it than Rigsby and Van Pelt.

* * *

Once back in the bullpen again and after the rest of the team were brought up to speed, Jane offered Lisbon his desk to work at since he rarely sat at it anyway. The fact it was directly in his eye line as he lay on his couch was merely a happy coincidence, of course.

He was relieved the others hadn't asked her many questions of her time away and were sensitive to her discomfort as much as she attempted to hide it, most likely spurred on by their own feelings of unease of what they could or should discuss with her. After a few minutes, silence ensued, except for the soft clicking of a mouse or of computer keys, and Jane let go of a satisfied breath and closed his eyes as he lay down on his couch. He knew it wouldn't last but for now, the world made some sense again for the first time in over a year and he revelled in that feeling as a contented sleep claimed him.


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13 - Agitation

 ** _Sacramento._**

 ** _13 months earlier._**

Jane broke the increasingly heavy silence by showing Van Pelt to the front door with a few words of polite thanks and a smile, barely acknowledging Lisbon's presence as he ushered the redhead out of the kitchen as they passed her in the doorway.

He re-entered the kitchen and raised an eyebrow at the highly irritated woman who was filling a glass of water from the tap at the kitchen sink and studiously avoiding him in the process.

She glugged it down as he spoke to her side profile. "You'll have to do a little better than that to get rid of me, Teresa."

She shot him a withering look and then gasped a second later as she fought to catch a breath, suddenly clasping her hands to the sides of the sink.

"Lisbon?" he uttered breathlessly, taking two quick steps to stand beside her as he furrowed his brow in concern.

She waved him away roughly with one hand and he rolled his eyes in response before taking another step forward, taking hold of her arm and turning her to face him. A second later, her eyes and mouth simultaneously opened wide and a wave of sour water hit him squarely on his chest. He let go of her immediately and jumped back in shock as she finished emptying the meagre contents of her stomach into the sink.

He watched, staring at the sight in front of him for a few seconds in belated disbelief before he stirred himself into action and approached her again. _Rookie mistake, how did I not see that coming?_ he said to himself as he began to move her hair away from her shoulders and fix it into a makeshift pony tail behind her back. He felt her stiffen at his presence but as another wave of nausea hit, her shoulders sagged in defeat. He rubbed her back soothingly with his free hand until it subsided and her head hung over the sink as she took deep breaths and intermittently spat into it after she'd finished vomiting.

"How about that?" she croaked eventually, her head still bowed and her eyes glittering with tears shed through her exertion. Wearily, "Is that enough to get rid of you now?"

As she straightened up he let go of her hair. "Not even close," he uttered quietly as she wiped her face with some kitchen roll at her side, her eyes averted.

"Guess the only option left is to shoot you then," she replied, attempting to place defiant humour in her shaky tone as she finally met his gaze. She looked away again and reddened when she saw the damage she'd done to his vest and shirt.

He bent down to catch her eyes as he grabbed hold of the kitchen roll beside her and dabbed at the marks left on his clothes. "I used to have a child, Lisbon. I've been thrown up on many times in my life. My daughter could have won prizes for her skills in the projectile event, if it were an Olympic sport, believe me."

She laughed softly before tears brimmed in her eyes again and she shook her head as she battled against them. He touched her upper arm with the lightest of touches, fearful she'd withdraw back into her shell again if he pushed too hard to comfort her. Softly, "Hey, it's okay. No real harm done. All right?"

"Stop being nice to me," she said as tears began to fall.

He laughed softly. "You'd rather I wasn't?"

She nodded. "Yeah...because I can't promise you the same in return. I'm going to be a bitch to you if you insist on staying here. Never mind..." She pointed to his chest.

He smirked. "I can take whatever you dish out both figuratively and literally, short of a bullet, that is. And I'll bill you for the dry cleaning if you insist. Fair enough?"

She let go of a ragged breath as she laughed. "You'd better." She took another deep breath and wiped her cheeks. "You should go home and get changed. Come back later to check on me if you're intent on staying here. Hopefully for you I won't be so grumpy by then."

He shook his head. "Nice try. I have my go bag in my car outside. So why don't you have a shower and I'll get changed then start on dinner."

She rolled her eyes as she pouted. "Fine. But it's your funeral."

* * *

She showered quickly, afraid she'd faint as her legs turned to jelly as the hot water cascaded over them. She was weaker than she wanted to admit and for the first time wondered if she'd done the right thing in insisting on being discharged from the Hospital. As she dried herself off in her bedroom she sighed. She was keeping Jane from the investigation and should have realised he would not allow her to fend for herself right away. He'd even decided he'd protect others from her acid tongue as she fought the physical effects of her...

She couldn't bring herself to say the word. She sat on the bed with the towel wrapped around her to recover from her dizziness. She tried the word out on her tongue silently.

 _Addiction._

She felt like she'd just tasted poison and she closed her eyes _._ Her torturer's word came back to haunt her again. _"You're an addict now, just like your father."_

She'd dismissed those words at the time. Told herself it was just his way of playing with her mind. That she was far stronger than her father had ever been - that she'd never lose a battle where she herself could control its outcome.

But now, as her body began to shake and she shivered as it ached for a thirst she knew she shouldn't ever quench again, she realised she had been the one playing mind games with herself.

She was already on the thorny path he'd trodden. The one that had consumed him in the end. And for the first time in her life she didn't know if she was strong enough to battle through the briars in her way and make it to a clearing.

She felt the scars on her arms now stripped of their bandages, the track lines, one of the few physical remnants of her ordeal. They would fade in time. Would the craving she felt fade too?

She wasn't sure how long she sat there, alone with her thoughts until a soft tap came to her bedroom door. Jane's voice, silky and soft. "Lisbon? You decent?"

She opened her eyes and looked at the towel wrapped around her. The shaking had stopped for now and her head felt marginally clearer. She shrugged, in this instant not caring if he caught her naked such was her exhaustion, both mentally and physically. "Yeah, come in, Jane," she sighed.

He entered dressed in a set of fresh clothes then did a double take at the sight of her in her towel. He didn't look away but stammered slightly before he recovered his composure. "Uh...I...I just thought I'd make a salad for dinner. Just something plain I thought would be best. That okay?"

She got off the bed and went to her dresser. She barely looked in his direction. "Yeah, whatever you want. Fine."

"How are you feeling?"

She gathered some underwear, a long-sleeved T-shirt and leggings. "Tired of being asked that question," she said with another long sigh.

"Yeah...yeah, I guess you would be."

He nodded as his eyes roamed over her frame. "You've lost a lot of weight."

She laughed without humour. "It's not a diet I'd recommend."

Distracted, "No, I guess not." His eyes continued to rake over her until she noticed him staring at her. "They're just legs, Jane."

He looked up at her face, blatantly caught out. "Sorry. I was just...uh-"

Neutrally, "Yeah, I know what you were doing. Although why the hell you'd want to check out any part of me with how I look now, I don't know. But it's good to know you're not such a eunuch, after all, I suppose."

His eyes glinted with amusement. "You thought I was a eunuch?"

Hers shone back at him, unamused. "I guess not, not anymore, at least. Lorelei Martins is proof enough of that, isn't she? Guess she got you back in the game again. Good for her."

His face fell and she spoke before he had a chance to respond. "I'll be down in a few minutes. I want to know what your problem with Bertram is."

* * *

 _ **Sacramento.**_

 _ **Present Day.**_

Lisbon tapped the keys on the laptop, clicking from one image to another. The monotony was almost hypnotic after ten minutes of staring at images on the screen. Her eyes strayed to Jane occasionally to break it up, sound asleep on his couch. A small smile fell across her lips as she watched him, the light from the window near his head bathing the curls over his forehead in a golden light, highlighting the lightness of his eyelashes, the slight stubble on his chin. She'd pictured the vision many times over the past year, she never imagined she'd see it in the flesh again.

"Boss, you want a coffee?" Rigsby asked as he rose from his desk, drawing her attention forward. He caught himself on in his faux pas after a brief second. "Sorry. Lisbon, you want a coffee? Feels weird calling you that...to your face, I mean," he stuttered.

"That's okay, Rigs. I know it's an adjustment. Believe me. No, I'm fine for now. But thank you."

As Rigsby smiled and made his leave she heard high heels click quickly across wooden boards and noticed a woman with short blonde hair cut elfin style and wearing an elegant but businesslike off white skirt suit (that she imagined would cost her at least six months' rent) quickly enter Cho's office. It occurred to her that it felt almost as strange calling it that as Rigsby found it not calling her 'boss'.

As she went back to checking tattoos on the screen in front of her, she heard the door open a few minutes later and Cho wave her inside.

Reaching the office she smiled at the blonde figure sitting back on the couch with her legs crossed, her outfit blending almost seamlessly into its background. Cho introduced them. "Lisbon, this is-"

"Director Hudson, I presume," Lisbon answered for him.

The other woman smiled and nodded, perfect white teeth on show as she got off the couch and outstretched her hand. "Miss Lisbon. I'm very pleased to meet you. How did you know who I was?" she asked as the two women shook hands.

"Jane mentioned your name to me and...well, I guessed you'd want to meet me when I got here after Cho no doubt filled you in on why that is."

"I'm impressed." She looked at Cho. "Like you said, an asset in this investigation, certainly. Cho, can you leave us to chat now?"

Cho's eyes silently asked Lisbon's permission. She nodded infinitesimally, touched he was looking out for her in his own quiet way. He nodded quickly and exited the room.

Hudson spoke to Lisbon again, her tone warm but professional. "Like you said, Agent Cho has filled me in and I'm pleased you've provided us with a lead to follow and are assisting us with that lead. This was a...horrific crime that you..." She licked her lips. "Well, I know this must be incredibly difficult for you personally, Miss Lisbon."

"I'm fine," Lisbon stated confidently.

"I'm pleased to hear that. I believe you're attempting to identify one of your attackers through a tattoo he had."

"That's correct. But I've only just started-"

"Oh, I know. It's highly time consuming. I don't envy you that task. And I'm aware as you no doubt are that a match may not be found at all."

Hudson leant against the back of Cho's desk and crossed her arms across her chest. "My question is...well, my concern is...what happens if you do manage to identify him?"

Lisbon frowned, "Then we have his name, obviously. He can be tracked down, lead us to whoever's behind this, of course."

"And then?"

Lisbon nodded as the realisation struck her of where the conversation was going. "If I do find out who he is then you don't want me to be part of the interrogation process with him."

Hudson nodded. "That's correct. As you're no longer a CBI agent-"

Lisbon cut in sharply. "I never asked to be part of the interrogation. Director Hudson, I'm well aware I'm no longer with the Bureau and that me taking part in any such interrogation would allow that man to stand a very good chance of having any charges dropped. A defence attorney would have a field day with a conflict of interest like that. Even if I were an agent, I still would have to recuse myself. Just because I've been away from law enforcement for a year it doesn't mean I've forgotten the procedures involved."

Hudson drew her head back in surprise at the outburst. "I assumed you'd want to face the man who helped imprison you."

"Then maybe you should have started out by asking me that." Lisbon seethed then bit down on her anger. Through gritted teeth, "Now, is there anything else or can I get back to what I was doing to help you solve this case?"

The blonde woman assessed the small woman in front of her, practically tapping her foot in impatience. She frowned. Calmly, "I never meant us to get off on the wrong foot, Miss Lisbon."

Lisbon exhaled and relaxed her shoulders. "It's fine, honestly. I apologise for how I spoke to you. It was...unprofessional of me. It's...it's been quite a forty-eight hours."

"I imagine it has been. And I understand how hard this must be for you. We just need to discuss one more thing. Cho mentioned that we should hire you as a consultant for this case-"

"That won't be necessary. I'm happy to help as a material witness...concerned citizen, whatever you want to call it. I don't need some kind of badge or...laminate to do so. As long as I can come here and be kept in the loop as far as the investigation goes then I don't require to be paid. And hopefully I'll only be in town for a few days, anyway. If I can identify this guy then I'm sure Cho and Jane will get him to roll over on whoever he works for."

Hudson nodded. "Yes, hopefully so. Fine, I can agree to that. I'll have an indefinite visitor's pass organised for you, save you having to get one every day."

Lisbon turned her tone professional. "Thank you. If there's nothing else-?"

"That'll be all. Thank you, Miss Lisbon."

* * *

Jane was startled awake by the sound of Lisbon thundering past him back to her desk. He opened his eyes, blinking wildly as he focused on her. A smile formed on his lips immediately. "Who's upset you already?" he smirked.

"No one," she said without looking at him and violently tapping a key in front of her. Van Pelt and Rigsby looked around and then swiftly shot their heads back to their desks again as Lisbon raised hers. Jane got to his feet and frowned at her with a nod. Quietly, "What happened?"

She licked her lips quickly then rose from her chair again. Equally as quietly, "Nothing. Just...just need a minute."

* * *

Ten minutes later she still wasn't back at her desk so Jane went looking for her. After having a female agent inform him she wasn't in the restrooms he frowned as a thought occurred to him where she just might be.

As he'd guessed he found her alone in his attic, standing at the open doorway to the outside space, leaning against the door frame.

"You don't come here much anymore by the look of it," she said as he stood with his back to her at the entrance to the room upon hearing his footsteps.

He walked inside then shrugged at the dismantled bed and the dust balls on the boards. "Occasionally still but...not so much now, no. Felt it was somewhere I'd only be reminded of Red John so I've tried to stay away as best I can. Why did you come here?"

"You called it your Thinking Room once, didn't you?" Her voice sounded distant from the rest of her as she turned to face him. Louder, "I needed somewhere...quiet...to think. This was the first place I thought of."

He nodded slowly. "What happened down there? I saw Eloise leave Cho's office. I presume you met her. What did she say to you?"

When she heard the agitation in his tone towards his boss, she shook her head. "Nothing she shouldn't have said. Although she went about it in a pretty crappy way. You lied to me, she's nothing like Hightower. But I don't want you to interfere."

He tilted his head to the side and raised a shoulder. "Okay, I won't. And well, I was trying everything I could to convince you to come back. I admit she can be a little straight laced. So, what happened?"

"Nothing really. It wasn't just what she said although it was partly that. It's...everything. I've just realised how much I don't fit in here anymore. She kept calling me Miss Lisbon." She laughed mirthlessly. "I know it's stupid but being called that in this building...in that office of all places..." Her words trailed off as she shook her head and looked away.

He came a step closer until they were opposite each other and in turn made her turn her face towards him again. "You do belong here, no matter what your title is." They locked eyes as he continued, "Don't take my word for it. You ask any one of them down there. You belong _here_ , Lisbon."

A beat passed as they continued to stare at each other, one's gaze set in a question and the others set in assurance.

Finally, she took a step back. "I'm not so sure anymore, Jane. Maybe coming back here was all a huge mistake. Maybe I should just get remote access to the database from Maine and let you know if I find anything than stay here."

"But what about seeing this through? Getting some kind of closure?"

She nodded. "Yeah," she said, more indifference than confirmation.

"You don't want that now but you did an hour ago? I don't understand."

She let go of a deep breath. "I still want it. But it's the form of that so-called closure I'm starting to worry about. What kind of closure? Catching them? Putting them in prison?"

"That's usually how people achieve it."

"Not you."

He narrowed his eyes at her. "What are you saying, Lisbon? You want what I wanted for Red John for all of them?"

She shrugged as tears gathered in her eyes. "That's just it. I don't know. I don't think so...but theoretically I might actually find one of them in the next day or so and the thought of it is terrifying now it's potentially so close. But not because I'm afraid of them. I'm afraid of what I'd be capable of _against_ them."

He frowned as she explained, "The conversation with her made me realise I might have my answers in the next couple of days. The suddenness after all this time didn't strike me until Hudson told me I wouldn't be allowed to interrogate the man with the tattoo if I identity him-"

He tutted. "Don't worry about that. Cho and the rest of us will make sure you have time with him no matter what she says-"

"Jane, you're not listening. I know you and the team would do that. And I think that's why she laid it out so clearly. She's afraid of the loyalty that you and the others have towards me and what it might do to harm the case against these people if they're caught. What rules are all of you willing to break to get me the justice you think I deserve?"

"You do deserve it, and to hell with whatever rules have to be broken."

She rolled her eyes. "I knew you'd say that. And the others would probably agree if I asked them to bend them for me also. Therefore, it's up to me to stop that from happening. To...keep everything above board. I never had a problem being the rational one when I worked here before. Someone had to be and it was my job to make sure criminals went to prison, not escape justice because of whatever scheme you played to catch them. But now...but now I'm not sure I'll be able to keep to that if I stay here and I see any one of those people, never mind keep you all in line too."

He pondered her statement for a long moment. "Okay. Then I'll make sure I do it for you."

She looked at him incredulously. "You're going to make sure we keep to the law? You, of all people?"

He shrugged. "If you believe you cannot, or are unsure you'll be able to when the time comes then yes, I will. If that's what you really want. I'm quite happy for them all to be hung, drawn and quartered personally, thrown into the ocean without a backwards thought. But if keeping within the lines is still that important to you even with this case, then I'll make sure you stay within them, Teresa."


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14 - Uncertainty

 _ **Sacramento.**_

 _ **13 months earlier.**_

"You think Bertram is in league with Red John?" Lisbon asked Jane as she speared a piece a cucumber. She pushed it between her lips and chewed with little enthusiasm.

He filled up her glass of water from a jug set on her small dining table as they ate together. "He might even be Red John for all I know," he responded with absolute seriousness.

"Like Grace said earlier, you're being paranoid. You have no basis for thinking that."

He shoved a piece of lettuce into his mouth, swallowing it quickly. "I haven't been able to eliminate him from my list yet so I have some basis. Plus, you didn't see him when you were abducted. He couldn't care less about what happened to you, he was only worried about the fallout that might come from it."

She shrugged. "He's never been my biggest fan, Jane. And it's no secret he's more of a politician than a cop. Plus, knowing you, you probably bit first when he showed his face in the office; it wouldn't have taken much for you to take your frustration out on him."

Jane pondered her brief synopsis of the events that may have occurred in her absence. Finally, he shrugged. "Perhaps, perhaps not. But I don't trust the man nevertheless. Never have."

She sighed, "I know. But it's up to me who I see or don't see in my own home, not you. And he's my boss so I'll have to speak to him eventually."

After a moment he nodded. "You're right. I guess I'm just..."

"I've noticed. You're feeling overprotective of me right now. Look, I get it but you can't rule my life."

Silence descended for a few seconds as they both continued eating. She took a deep breath as her stomach contracted in a sudden spasm. He looked up immediately. "Are you-?"

"I'm fine, stop fussing," she snapped, closing her eyes until the pain rescinded. "I'm sorry," she said, taking a deep breath. "Told you I'd be a bitch if you stayed here."

He put his knife and fork down to sip his water. "Don't worry about it." He eyed her over his glass. "Have you read those pamphlets the hospital gave you yet by any chance?" he ventured after a second.

"Rehab, you mean?" she said with a roll of her eyes.

"It's just somewhere you could go with people who are going through what you are," he said softly. "People who'll understand. Don't think of it as it having some kind of stigma attached to you going there. It might help you in a few days, Teresa. Once the physical side of this abates and you begin to deal more with the emotional fallout of what's happened to you. And if you don't want to do that then maybe talking to a therapist-"

" _You're_ recommending I see a therapist?" she scoffed.

"There are some good ones out there, I'm sure," he smiled. "I even found one once, after all."

"Not by choice from what I recollect," she remarked sourly and quickly. She reddened a second later when she realised the meaning he might take from what she'd said. "I-I didn't mean to say that...that what you were going through at that time was any less difficult or that you weren't able to cope-"

"I know," he nodded. "But you're right in any case. I couldn't cope with what happened. I have no idea how you're even functioning right now if I'm being honest."

"What else am I supposed to do? Rolling myself into a ball and crying incessantly isn't going to help, is it? Sharing my sob story, what's that gonna get me?"

She shook her head. "I can do this on my own, Jane. Besides...how are they going to understand what I've gone through? The people in those facilities chose to do that to themselves whereas I..."

Suddenly she threw her cutlery down forcefully and got up from her chair as she grabbed her plate. She marched towards her kitchen and tossed the remaining salad into the bin before beginning to wash her plate.

Confused by her sudden outburst he followed her into the kitchen. Mood swings were part of the deal, he supposed. "They were just suggestions. It's not weakness to accept help," he said a second later as he put his plate into the sink as she stood at it. He saw tears prick at her eyes as she ignored him and sighed. "Look, I admit, I...I don't know what the hell to do here for the best, Lisbon. I'm somewhat out of my depth."

She stopped scrubbing the plate, surprised and touched by his honesty. He really must be at the end of his tether to admit he was at a loss. It frightened her too, that the know it all she'd called her friend for so many years was blatantly struggling seeing her like this and was blindly searching for a way through it.

"I know," she whispered. She looked up at him, her green eyes brimming with misery and her own uncertainty over what she needed from him and even more what she required from herself.

"I know you're doing your best to help me. But this is something I need to work through on my own, Jane. I don't belong in one of those places and well, after Carmen I don't exactly trust psychiatrists either. If you want to be here for me then be here but just don't...don't crowd me so much or tell me what I should or shouldn't be doing. It's something I need to figure out for myself."

He exhaled. "Fair enough. I'll try to ease up."

"And stop beating yourself up. There's no easy fix to this, no solution you need to figure out."

She cleared her throat as he took up drying the dishes beside her. "So, how are you getting on with that Red John list of yours?" she said, injecting as much brightness into her tone as she could manage.

He matched her faux chirpiness. "Oh, you know. It's a process, as they say."

"Meaning you've barely looked at it since I was abducted."

He shrugged as he placed the plates back in a cupboard. "It wasn't exactly a priority, no."

* * *

She crawled back into bed again that night after unleashing the contents of her stomach once more. Diarrhoea this time. Well, she thought glibly as she drew the covers over her again, a change is as good as a rest as they say. Her limbs felt like lead and she wrapped the bedclothes up to her chin as she shivered underneath them while perspiring profusely, the nightlight beside her illuminating the rest of the room in a shadow world.

She breathed out, over and over again in a bid to relax her body, telling herself it was just a bad flu that would run its course in a day or so. She turned her mind to Jane, downstairs on her couch and likely worrying himself sick about her than sleeping or getting any closer to finding Red John. She'd wanted nothing more than to see him again if she ever got out of that room and pretty much all she'd done since her release was treat him like something she'd trodden in or done her best to ignore his advice. She recalled something he'd said once about her being meaner to him than the other kids because she liked him. She was certainly showing that to be true with her current behaviour.

She turned off the light and closed her eyes but they sprang open a second later. Great, now she was afraid of the dark too, it seemed. She turned the light beside her back on but the walls still felt like they were closing in on her. She threw off the covers and got to her feet to catch a breath. She pushed her toes into the plush of her bedroom carpet and paced a few steps back and forward beside the bed, hoping the feel of something familiar beneath her feet would provide her with some comfort. But the sudden motion made her head spin and she stopped abruptly, attempting to focus. The bed and walls danced before her eyes before they blurred into a grainy image of brown and cream. A moment later, she was aware of nothing as she fell into a soft sea of beige.

* * *

"Lisbon! Lisbon!"

Her eyes remained steadfastly shut as she heard the sound of her name repeatedly, each time spoken more anxious, battling to remain in control.

Silence descended for a moment and she relaxed back into her peaceful netherworld. Then the annoying crescendo started up again.

"Lisbon? Teresa, can you hear me?"

She mumbled incoherently.

A gasp. "The ambulance is on its way. Just breathe. If you can hear me just breathe slowly."

 _Ambulance?_ Well, that got her attention. She was perfectly comfortable where she was.

She tried to open her eyes to protest. A nanosecond vision of Jane staring at her with a wild stare before her eyes rolled back in her head and she collapsed her weight again.

A slight slap to her left cheek and she grumbled, "Go away. Stop." She raised a hand to swipe at the offending creature the hand belonged to but it fell back down just as quickly.

"Lisbon, open your eyes. I know you can hear me. It's Jane."

The voice was calmer now. _Jane. Of course. Who else would it be who'd interrupt her sleep_? "I'm...schleeping," she muttered.

"No, you're not," he replied firmly. Anger in his voice to hide his distress, "Your temperature spiked and you fainted. Open your eyes, stay with me."

"Hmm?" she said, gradually tearing back her eyelids. She went to move from her prone position on the floor and he stopped her movements immediately, placing his hand on her shoulder. He breathed out. "Just stay still for now."

He brought a cold compress to her forehead and she winced. "Shit, Jane! That's freezing!"

"Good. You'd no reaction first time I placed it on you. Must be working to bring your temp down."

"But I'm cold," she said like a petulant child.

"You only think that," he told her, moving the compress to her wrists to cool her down.

* * *

He stood at the door to her bedroom as the paramedics assessed her condition. She'd regained consciousness and was both embarrassed they'd been called and angry with him for doing so. He crossed his arms across his chest as he stared back at her, utterly unrepentant for his actions as the medics prodded and probed her.

When he'd heard the thud from downstairs he'd taken the stairs two at a time to get to her. When he'd saw her sprawled on the floor and couldn't wake her he thought his heart had stopped.

He'd called 911 as soon as he'd moved her into the recovery position. When he'd touched her skin it was boiling hot to the touch and had run to get a cold facecloth from the bathroom to cool her down, worried a seizure would be triggered if he couldn't get it regulated.

One of the paramedics, a woman in her mid thirties, looked at him kindly as she got to her feet to address him. "Your wife's temperature is still slightly higher than we'd like but it's going in the right direction. She should be fine now. Just keep her cool, make her rest and open some windows in here. Try to get some cold fluids into her, if you can. We've given her some Tylenol though she wasn't happy about taking it. Give her some more in a few hours if you can persuade her."

He barely noticed the remark about her being his wife. Naturally, a man wearing a wedding ring and calling medical help at eleven pm for a female around his age would be no one else. He nodded gratefully. "Thank you. You don't think she needs to be admitted?"

He ignored the scowl from his new 'wife' in front of him wearing a blood pressure cuff. The paramedic replied, "I don't think that's necessary since we were able to stabilise her. As long as she remains under observation for the rest of night here she'll be more comfortable, I'd expect. Keep taking her temperature regularly. And if there's any change in condition bring her to the ER right away."

"I'll make sure to keep an eye on her, thank you."

* * *

He saw the ambulance crew out and walked back upstairs and into her bedroom. She was in the adjoining bathroom. "Look, I know you're mad I called them but I'm not apologising for it," he said at the door.

He heard the sound of a shower running. "Lisbon?"

"Just having a cool shower like they advised, I'll be out in a minute."

He took the opportunity to gather his blanket and pillow from the couch and throw them onto the only chair in the room. He was going to make certain she was closely observed all night, whether she liked it or not.

She opened the bathroom door a few minutes later wearing a fresh football shirt. She looked noticeably better, some colour back in her cheeks and more steady on her feet.

"I'm not mad," she said as she took the few steps to climb back into bed. She laid her head back on the headboard and closed her eyes with a loud sigh.

"What were you doing out of bed anyway?" he sighed. "You were supposed to be resting. You could have banged your head if you'd hit it on the bedpost, you stupid woman."

She shrugged, sipped at the cold water to her side, the fight knocked out of her to raise her voice in response.

"You couldn't sleep," he said with a long sigh in answer to his own question, coming to sit beside her at the edge of the bed. Softly, "You want to talk about it?"

She shook her head. "I'm sorry I frightened you," she said quietly. "It must have been hard seeing me like that."

"Meh. I was more concerned you'd right hook me when I slapped your cheek to bring you around."

She looked him straight in the eye. Seriously, "No, you weren't."

He nodded and looked down, licking his lips. Soberly, "No, I wasn't."

* * *

 _ **Sacramento.**_

 _ **Present Day.**_

Eloise Hudson nodded to Jane and Lisbon as they reappeared in the bullpen, her speech to the agents present broken up with a questioning glance at Jane before he sat on his couch with barely a look in her direction. Lisbon shuffled past the amassed crowd with her head bowed, standing with her back to the desk next to him, her cheeks ablaze as she noticed eyes upon her once more.

Hudson continued, "Thanks for joining us, Jane, Miss-"

"Would you mind just calling me Lisbon," Lisbon interrupted, raising her head towards the other woman. "It's quicker, right?"

The blonde woman nodded slowly. "Of course." She addressed Van Pelt. "Van Pelt, can you just repeat what you just informed the rest of us so we're all up to speed?"

The redhead responded, "Yes. Forensics confirmed that DNA belonging to six different females was discovered in the room. Blood of one male was identified too."

"We're assuming the male blood found was from the guard you kicked," Cho added. "But no hits on who he is."

"Sounds about right," Lisbon said. "No DNA from the other men found?"

He responded, "No. Fingerprints are inconclusive too. Only partials mostly or else no matches found on record from those that could be identified clearly. White room was awash with them."

"What about the room where they watched? Less traffic there presumably. Nothing there?"

Cho shook his head. "Monitors, keyboard and table were wiped clean."

"What about the cameras? They wouldn't have had time to wipe them all before clearing out. Someone placed those cameras there," Lisbon argued.

A hint of a smile crossed Cho's lips as he heard the tenacity in her tone, her investigative brain kicking back into action. "Prints found but no matches for them."

"So, further analysis on what was found?" Hudson asked Van Pelt.

Van Pelt glanced at Lisbon momentarily. She licked her lips. "Uh, well, one of the women is Lisbon, of course. Her DNA is in the database, after all. Needed it to test against the trace found when..."

Hudson nodded. She turned her tone softer. "Yes. The five others?"

"Only other one that has been identified belongs to a Laura Monroe. College student at Sacramento State University reported missing five months ago. She was involved in a robbery of a dinosaur bone of all things from a museum less than a year ago so her DNA is in the system. She got off with a suspended sentence when the bone was recovered. Looks like it was some kind of initiation prank that got out of hand."

Cho nodded, "Trying to fit in with college life by the sound of it. Stupid but not a hardened criminal in the making."

Hudson asked Van Pelt, "Any connection to Jessica Wells?"

"None that I've been able to find electronically."

Their boss continued, "Lisbon, do you know her?"

Lisbon held back an eye roll. She would have spoken up by now if she had. _Did this woman take her for a complete idiot?_

Jane interrupted as he played with his fingers while looking down as he listened to the conversation around him. Amused, "Pretty sure she'd have said so by now if she did, El."

His superior reddened slightly as Lisbon tried to stop a smile from forming. She cleared her throat, "No, I've never met her, ma'am."

Hudson turned back to Van Pelt, tilting her chin. Authoritatively, "Is that all we have?"

"Not exactly," the redhead responded. "One thing was strange. In one of the hair samples found it appears one of the women has Afro hair."

Jane's head suddenly flicked up in interest as Lisbon frowned and spoke to Van Pelt. "That's unusual. If this is a serial killer – or serial attacker, at least – since only one body has been found so far, then they rarely stray from their own ethnicity in choosing victims. Jessica Wells and...me, well, we're both Caucasian yet at least one women taken was obviously not. This Laura Monroe?"

"Caucasian also."

Jane commented with a smile of admiration, "Precisely, Lisbon. Couldn't have put it better myself."

He furrowed his brow as he tapped his index finger to his lips.

"Thoughts, Patrick?" Hudson enquired. "What does it mean?"

He shrugged. "I'm not sure. Yet. It's interesting, though, isn't it?"

Hudson sighed. "Okay, well let me know if you come up with any theories. Patrick, go talk to Laura Monroe's parents and her classmates, see what you can find out there."

Lisbon took a step forward instinctively and then stopped herself. She'd automatically fallen into the role of Jane's partner without thinking as she'd become engrossed in the discussion of the case. Luckily for her, it appeared no one but Jane had noticed her unintentional and literal misstep as he glanced at her movement out of the corner of his eye.

Hudson glanced from a folder she was looking at to Rigsby. "You go with him, Agent Rigsby."

"Sure, boss."

Hudson withdrew as Lisbon settled back at her desk again. Jane got to his feet as Rigsby collected his jacket and weapon. He stood in front of her. "Sorry, maybe next time," he smiled.

She shook her head. "Doubt it. Besides, I have an important job to do here."

"Yes, you do."

He made to move away and then turned back again. "You-you're okay here, right? I mean...I know Eloise is a bit of a-"

"I'm good," she nodded. She noticed the sudden wariness in his expression at leaving her. "Jane, I'll be right here when you get back. Stop worrying about me and go and do your job."

He nodded slowly and repeated what he'd said the last time she'd said those words to him. Softly, "Sorry, I know you will. We'll figure this out. I'll see you later, Teresa."

He noticed a flicker of recognition cross her features, the déjà vu of their words hitting her also.

Instead of planting a kiss to her lips as a goodbye this time, however, he turned his back to her with a soft smile.

His eyes told her of sadness and regret. Fear. Hope that on this occasion it would only be a matter of hours and not a year until their next conversation.

* * *

As she sat quietly at her desk a headache formed after twenty minutes. She was no longer used to staring at a computer screen for minutes on end. Her back ached after thirty, the now unusual sedentary position making her limbs ache in protest. She stood up and went to the break area to stretch her legs, finding Van Pelt there.

"Coffee?" Van Pelt smiled, shaking the coffee pot at her after she refilled her own mug.

Lisbon shook her head. "I'm more of a tea drinker nowadays, thanks."

"Wow, Jane must be happy about that. He was always trying to get you to cut down on your caffeine."

Lisbon filled the kettle. "Yeah, I guess." She turned to Van Pelt. Awkwardly, "I-I wanted to thank you, Grace."

"For what?"

Lisbon bit her bottom lip. "For...for keeping the unit together. Well, Jane especially. For giving him somewhere to belong after Red John."

"I didn't do much, honestly. But, well, like you always said, he's family, right? We all did what we could to help him through that time."

The redhead looked into her cup and Lisbon understood perfectly what she wasn't willing to say.

 _We all did what we could to help him through that time..._

 _Just like when you left him._

 _Like you should have._

 _Where were you when he needed you most?_

Lisbon took a breath as she reinforced her mask of polite indifference. She replied, "Don't be so modest. You keep those men in line more than you think you do. They respect you. Jane likes you and he doesn't actually like a lot of people. He wouldn't have allowed your help otherwise."

Van Pelt blushed. "Thanks, bo-. Sorry."

"It's fine."

"I know it must be hard to be back but...but it's the happiest I've seen him in a year, just having you back in the bullpen again. He puts up an act that he's fine but I see him sometimes, looking like he's miles away when he thinks no one is watching. He's not nearly as good an actor as he thinks he is."

"Or maybe you're just better at reading him nowadays. I'm...I'm proud of the agent you've become, Grace. Really, I am."

The redhead's expression brightened. "Thanks." She took a sip of coffee as Lisbon fetched her tea. "So, I heard you were in Maine, how was that?"

"Very different to Sacramento," Lisbon replied with a smile. "Nice, though. Peaceful. Relaxing."

Van Pelt frowned at her. "That nature stuff used to drive you crazy. Sounds more like the kind of place Jane would enjoy."

Lisbon sighed. "Yeah, he did seem to like it there."

"Are you really planning on going back there, though? After we catch whoever this is?"

Resolutely, "Yes, I am."

* * *

As she carried her tea back into the bullpen Cho waved her inside his office. As she entered he got out of his chair and came around to the front of the desk, leaning his butt on it.

Before he spoke she said, "Cho, you don't need to keep doing that every time I come in here."

He frowned. "Do what?"

She nodded towards his desk chair behind him. " _You_ belong in that chair now. I'm pleased you're leading the unit. There's no one I trust or respect more. I know I left you in the lurch but I also knew you were more than ready to be in charge."

He nodded slowly with a slight upcurl of his lips. "Hadn't noticed I was doing it," he remarked.

He went around to the other side of the desk and sat in his chair, motioning for her to sit in the one opposite. "How's it going?"

She took a seat. "I've only started-"

"I mean being back. Must be an adjustment."

She shrugged. "You could say that. For all of you too by the looks of it."

He nodded. "It's good to have you back."

"Thank you. But that's not why you called me in here."

He sighed. "Hudson wants me to keep an eye on you. Thinks your temper might get the better of you and screw up this case."

Lisbon rolled her eyes, calming her increasing hostility towards the blonde woman in charge. "I didn't exactly get off to a flying start to her so I'm not surprised. But you don't need to worry, I'm fine. Honestly."

"I'm not concerned with what she thinks. But Jane's worried about you too though he'd never admit it now you're here."

"He needn't be," she lied.

Uncertainty swept across his face. She added, "Look when I got here it was all a bit much, yes. So maybe he had a right to be. But we've talked since and it's helped. I'm here to help, not cause problems for this investigation. All right?"

Cho nodded without much conviction before he excused her from his office. "I hope not," he whispered under his breath after she closed the door.


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N: Apologies for the lack** **of** **updating this story and Reconnect lately. I have been busy trying to complete Serendipitous Saturation as it hurtles towards its end. Only a couple of chapters to go in that one but I missed writing this story so much I've come back to it briefly for now. Thank you for your patience.**

* * *

Chapter 15 – Falling Short

 _ **Sacramento.**_

 _ **13 months earlier.**_

"You all right?" she asked as the silence lengthened between them. Jane sat on her bed and played with his wedding ring. He wasn't looking at her, his head tilted off to the side instead towards the shaft of moonlight that shimmered through the crack in the curtains of her bedroom window. He was deep in thought by the line set between his eyes. Like most other times in her life, she had absolutely no idea what he was thinking.

"I'll be okay now," she continued. "I feel much better. You should go back downstairs, get some sleep."

He stirred and exhaled slowly, relaxing his face into a smile as he brought his eyes back to hers. "How about a game of cards?"

She drew her head back. "What? It's the middle of the night, Jane, and we're both exhausted."

"Meh." He removed a deck from his inside jacket pocket and began shuffling them.

"You always carry a deck of cards around with you?" she asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Never know when someone might want a game."

"Or a chance to swindle them, more like."

He grinned. "I don't think you're ready for poker just yet so how about Blackjack? Think you can manage to count to twenty-one?"

He began to deal cards between them as she rolled her eyes.

"You're trying to distract me from the withdrawal."

"Actually, I'm trying to get you to fall asleep by distracting you from the withdrawal. I could have used hypnotism but not much fun in that for me and I doubt you'd go along with it."

"You're trying to distract yourself too," she told him quietly.

He pursed his lips together and shrugged, looking at his hands shuffling and not at her. A beat passed. He met her eyes again. Cheerfully, "Now, what do you suggest we use for stakes?"

She sighed, picking up her card that was set face down. "I'm going to lose to you so definitely not money. And if you hadn't noticed I don't exactly have much else to offer presently, anyway."

His eyes strayed to her knee that just poked out from beneath her bedcovers, his mind wandering to the milky thigh that surely lay beyond. He closed down that line of thinking immediately and took a deep breath. "Don't be such a defeatist, Lisbon. But what do you say we just get in a little practice for now?"

They played a couple of hands quietly, Jane keeping an eye on her for any signs her temperature was spiking again. Her eyelids were closing five minutes later as only the rhythmic slapping of cards could be heard. Soon she drifted off and Jane gently removed the ace in her hand.

"You had blackjack," he said to her quietly with a smile as he gathered up the cards and placed them on the nightstand beside them. She'd sunk into the pillow with her head at an awkward angle. Deftly he managed to lift the top half of her body slightly to lay her down on her back and pulled a light blanket over her from her stomach down to allow her to cool down some more. She must have been out cold for her to allow him to do that, he said to himself ruefully.

He felt her forehead and nodded, relieved she was cooler to the touch.

He recalled Angela doing the same thing with Charlotte when she fell ill once, the vigil she'd kept at her bedside. Well, he recalled her telling him about it. Like so many times as his daughter was growing up, he wasn't there at the time, but working across country instead.

He'd called his wife from some smoke-filled club in the Midwest after his set ended like he normally did. She recounted their daughter's fever, the doctor telling her it was just some kind of virus going around, the instructions to keep her cool and the children's medicine to administer. They'd talked for ten minutes while a woman on stage wearing too much lipstick and showing too much cleavage belted out some show tune or other. Up until Red John had taken them from him, it had been one of the most depressing nights of his life.

His pay that night had felt like thirty pieces of silver in his hand. He'd asked her if he should cut his engagements short. As expected she had told him she had things covered at home and not to worry. He'd known that would be her answer before he even asked the question – would he have asked it if he didn't? He ran a hand down his face. Most likely not. He'd never forgotten the weariness in her tone that night from worry and lack of sleep. He'd come home and taken them all to Disneyland with the money he'd earned, of course, three weeks later.

"You don't have to feel guilty for not being with us all the time, Paddy," Angela had said to him as they watched Charlotte on the teacups ride, his arm firmly around her waist. She'd kissed his cheek and whispered into his ear, "Not much longer, though, and we'll be set for life. Then you won't have to do it anymore and we'll finally be free of that life forever and can give Charlie the world and the life we never had."

A year later they'd bought their house in Malibu. That was when the arguing had started, the pleading for him to stop his trade.

He closed his eyes and shook the images from his mind, the pain of hindsight excruciating. He took a deep breath and turned his thoughts from his family to Lisbon instead.

She had felt so small and light in his arms and he had treated her like a porcelain doll. It was easy to forget how slight she was in frame at times as her presence was so forceful. Or had been until now.

He stared at her listless body, her arms marked with the trauma she'd been through, the vibrant life force zapped out of her through her forced addiction and the fatigue of withdrawal.

He ghosted his fingers across hers as a new wave of guilt washed over him. He had to catch Red John, not just for his wife and his daughter but now also for the unexpected gift he'd somehow received in their place. She'd been wrong when she said that everyone who got close to him didn't get hurt. He was looking at proof of it right in front of him. There was no pleasure in being right, that there was another casualty in the war he was fighting, another victim to add to the already high cost.

A stray thought occurred to him that he should do what he did before, only for real this time. Give up, call it a day. Allow Red John his victory. Cut his losses that were already far too high.

If there was anyone who could convince him to start over it was the brunette snoring softly opposite him. But she'd never ask that of him, she'd never want him to give up his quest. And certainly not _for_ her. But in the unlikely event that she did, would he? He pondered for a long moment. He concluded - probably not – or at least not without resenting her for that decision further down the line. He was ashamed to admit that truth. And what could he offer her in its place instead, anyway?

He felt the weight of the notebook in his jacket pocket, the list he'd started to draw up. He should be focusing on it. He should call Van Pelt and tell her to come over and keep watch over Lisbon to allow him to do just that, he told himself over and over again. To stay up nights to complete the onerous task he'd set himself. Or to seek out Lorelei somehow. Make her tell him who Red John was by any means necessary. Kill her if he had to in order to get his answer.

But he found himself pinned to Lisbon's bedside instead, watching the easy rise and fall of her chest as she slept, unaware of his priorities shifting and battling against each other as she slept.

For an hour he sat here, drinking in the rarity of the sight before him. He'd watched her fall asleep on stakeouts, car journeys – but never like this.

At one stage, the intimacy of the moment struck him and longing bubbled up in his chest for more nights like this where he could just watch her sleep. All the while he savoured the scene before him, his gaze memorising every freckle, every line and contour in the dim amber glow of her nightlight.

He imagined nestling in beside her to find some peace and comfort of his own, a respite to the thoughts tumbling around his head as he floundered in a sea of indecision. He thought about kissing her, breaking down the wall between them and turning friendship into something more, allowing her to really see what she meant to him. It was so tempting he licked his lips and his breath hitched. But for a multitude of reasons it was far more terrifying than tempting and he released a breath of restraint.

She stirred after thirty minutes and curled her hand in his. He was reminded of that sweltering day in the desert, the day Wainwright was murdered, the day his con in Vegas came to an end. Another loss in a string of them.

He'd reached for her then, needed her touch like she sought his now. He'd needed to know she was still there for him, despite everything, his anchor, still. She murmured, her face screwed up in anguish. She was having a nightmare and he squeezed her hand and rubbed his thumb across her knuckles gently to let her know she wasn't alone until it passed.

* * *

 _ **Sacramento.**_

 _ **Present Day.**_

Jane entered the CBI bullpen, a few stray agents remaining as his watch read seven pm. The office was bathed in darkness, too. Van Pelt had a date with Rigsby and Cho a regular one on this day once a month with his mother he didn't think anyone else knew about. Of course, Jane did.

He searched for Lisbon but only the amber glow of the light on his old desk greeted him. He was oddly discombobulated at her lack of presence although he could see the laptop there still open and her leather jacket slung over the back of the chair. She was most likely in the restroom but he was, he supposed, suffering from what he could only think of as some form of separation anxiety. Or perhaps fear that she'd run off again as quickly as she had done before.

Even Rigsby had noticed his discomfort in the car in being away from her in the time spent at the University and interviewing Laura Monroe's parents. While used to him wandering off on his own as part of a case, Rigsby had called him 'twitchy' in the car journeys as his right leg bounced up and down uncharacteristically and he barely took part in any discourse that wasn't case related with the tall agent. Jane had mocked him for his inability to read people and redoubled his efforts at appearing unbothered.

The agent had asked him about Lisbon, naturally, and how she was coping with being back in Sacramento. Jane had quickly assumed the identity of a man who wasn't in the throes of a mild fit of panic and uncertainty and had told him she was doing absolutely fine and not to worry. Rigsby had narrowed his eyes at him and nodded slowly, emitting an unconvincing, "Okay, if you say so, man," in response.

He exhaled as he heard her quick purposeful footsteps at his back.

"Hey," she said, coming up behind him carrying a cup of tea. "How'd you get on with the parents? Hope you didn't cause any trouble."

He couldn't help smile when he saw the look of worry cross her features that he'd pulled some kind of stunt and the beginnings of a glare set on her face. The old familiarity warmed him but he felt adrift at the same time as an equally unusual awkwardness still dwelled on between them.

"Meh, little early for that, Lisbon," he responded cheerfully, planting himself on his couch and throwing his jacket beside him.

She nodded with a small smile and sat down, training her eyes on the laptop screen again.

He continued, "They said she was always a little wild growing up, easily led and would normally pay the consequences of others actions."

"Did you believe them?"

"Yeah, pretty much although they sugar coated it some. She wasn't a saint but it's easier to blame others for their daughter's mistakes than her or themselves. Her friends confirmed much the same. That she was flighty and weak-willed." He added with a smirk, "Not that they said those exact words."

"More like the opposite and you extrapolated the truth from what they didn't say."

He smiled affectionately at her. "You're still good at this, you know," he said softly.

She shrugged as a slight blush warmed her cheeks. "More like I remember how you operate." She cleared her throat. "Anyone of interest you want to look into further?"

He sighed and allowed his head to fall back into the soft comfort of leather, closed his eyes. "No. One of her friends did say that Laura had told her she thought she was being followed just before her disappearance. She thought she was being paranoid and attention seeking at the time. Was convinced she made it up to garner some notice from the crowd she hung out in as she was on the periphery of it and wanted to make herself stand out more. But now...well...makes you think, doesn't it? Could be some truth to it."

Lisbon's head jerked up. "That information wasn't in the Missing Person's report."

"Hmm. No, it wasn't. But her disappearance was barely investigated. They assumed she'd run off with some guy or something like that considering her colourful background of making wrong life choices."

Lisbon nodded. "They're always swamped in that division. Hard to tell who is a runaway or if it's something more sinister at that age. And sounds like her parents weren't all that surprised by her disappearance either so they probably didn't push matters."

"Hmm," Jane agreed sleepily.

"What did you tell them?"

"The truth. That their daughter was most likely dead."

"Jeez, Jane. You don't know that. Not for certain."

His eyes met hers. "We both know she's dead, Lisbon."

"I was in that room and I'm still alive," she argued. "Maybe they let her go too."

"Then where is she? Why hasn't she reported what happened to her?"

"I-I don't know. But...but why didn't they kill me? If you're so certain everyone else is dead who was abducted then why aren't I?"

He clicked his tongue and sighed. "That's the $64,000 dollar question, isn't it?"

He watched her go back to work again, a line between her eyes as she studied the screen in front of her and her eyelids drooping with tiredness at the repetition of the task she'd set herself. "You haven't had any progress here either, I see."

She rolled her eyes. "No, not yet. Only in seeing tattoos in places I never thought were possible to have them and never want to see again."

He chuckled softly. "You're getting an education, then, by the sound of it?"

"One I'd really rather not."

His tone turned lower, more sensual. "Oh, I don't know. I can see you with a tattoo. Something tasteful, of course. Maybe on that spot just where you're especially sensitive to the touch, you know-"

"Jane!" she exclaimed, looking around to make sure they were alone.

He laughed. "You looked like you were about to fall asleep. Just trying to stimulate you to keep you awake."

She shook her head, her face crimson.

He yawned and got off the couch, stretched cat-like. "You want to get out of here soon? It's getting late. Don't feel like cooking so how about some takeout? There's a new Thai place you'll like."

She stopped working and licked her lips. "We need to talk about that," she said seriously.

He smirked, "Thai food? We can go Italian if you'd prefer."

"You know that's not what I'm talking about."

He sighed wearily. "This is the part where you tell me you can't stay with me anymore, is it?"

"You know I can't. It was fine when it was just for one night...two even as it's getting late. But we don't know how long I'll be here now. Might be a week or more. It's not appropriate for me to stay with you. Especially not while I'm working here."

"You're actually not officially working here if we're being pedantic. Not that it would go against any rules, anyway, even if you were." He narrowed his eyes at her. "Why is that, by the way? Why didn't you want to be a consultant? Pay is terrible but it's better than nothing, surely?"

She said nothing in response for a second and his frown deepened. Then she said, "We were talking about me staying with you, not that."

"Hmm," he said, pondering her words and her reasoning behind not taking a consultant's position. He shrugged, deciding to mull it over later or wait for her to tell him herself. He went back to topic. "So, in other words, Grace asked you where you were staying and then jumped to conclusions when you told her it was at my place."

"I could see her pick out damn china patterns in her head," she grumbled.

His face was expressionless. "Let's go for plain white, shall we? Maybe some kind of embossed pattern if you insist-"

"I'm serious, Jane," she snapped.

He rolled his eyes. "Who cares what Grace or anyone else thinks, Lisbon. You staying with me suits us both. Since when do you care about rumours?"

"I-I don't. But..."

"But since those rumours now have some basis – well, as far as our past relationship is concerned – then you're more worried about them. No one knows what happened between us, Teresa, if that's what you're concerned with. I was hardly likely to write about it on the men's room wall, was I?"

"No...no, of course, I know you'd have been discrete."

"So, then we don't have a problem," he concluded, shucking on his jacket.

"I still think I should look for a motel tomorrow. So just one more night."

"Uh-oh, whatever you say," he said disinterestedly, picking up her jacket and holding it out for her to put in.

She rolled her eyes as she got off the chair and put her hands through its outstretched arms. "I'm serious," she said again, facing him just as he was about to lift her hair out from under her collar.

His arms fell to his sides and he looked her in the eye, his patience ran out. "Yes, I know you are. You've already said. But you are also being ridiculous. It's a practical arrangement. Stop making it into something it doesn't have to be."

He smiled devilishly. "Or are you afraid the close proximity will mean you won't be able to keep your hands to yourself again if it continues?"

"Of course not!" she replied. Much too quickly, he noticed. His smile grew into something much more predatory, darker, intense.

She looked away from him and gathered her belongings silently, a slight shake in her hands as she picked up the laptop.

* * *

"That was good," she said as she finished eating and pushed her plate away as they sat at Jane's dining table.

"Thought you'd appreciate it," he smiled as he took it and his own to the sink.

"I'll do those," she called to him.

"Nah, you go relax on the couch, won't be a minute. You want some peppermint tea to finish off?"

"Sure."

It was surprising how easy domesticity seemed to settle between them, she mused, as she made her way to the sofa. She pulled out her laptop and placed it on her knees after curling her legs up under her.

"What's the wifi password here?" she shouted to him in the kitchen behind.

"How do you know I have wifi?"

She rolled her eyes. "You're a dinosaur, Jane, but you're not that stuck in the past, surely."

"Guess."

"Jane," she whined, imagining the accompanying smirk to that word on his face.

He laughed and, just for a few moments, she forgot about her reasons for coming here or what came before, of the distance between them still, of all the things they hadn't discussed, of the chasm of hurt feelings, anger, shame, and guilt that existed. For a short time, they were just two people living together in some other universe, happy and settled, bickering like two lovers might.

He placed a cup in front of her, breaking her out of her thoughts. The look he gave her was like he'd just looked into her soul, had just been where she was. She saw his jaw clench in response, regret in his eyes, affection, pain, resentment, a hint of annoyance at her.

"The password?" she asked him quietly, looking at the screen.

He sat down beside her. He attempted to bring them back to the imaginary world they'd conjured up moments before. "You really don't want to guess?" he smiled, taking a sip of his tea.

She shot him a glare and he grinned. "Cho is a goat. All the one word," he eventually provided.

"What?!" she exclaimed, shaking her head in disbelief.

He smiled. Confidently, "You've never seen the resemblance? Plus his personality suits goat perfectly. Stubborn. Unyielding. And mountain goats are loners too, did you know that? Voyeurs, sitting on their perches, seeing everything but not interacting comfortably with others. So you see, decidedly goat-ish, our Senior Agent Cho."

She gaped at him. "I think you've lost any sense you ever had. You've thought a lot about this, obviously."

He grinned. "Meh. Just made that up off the cuff actually. But I made you smile. Or almost did."

She bit back a grin. "You're an idiot."

He beamed one back at her. "Password is password, I believe. That's what it said on the lease agreement anyway, wifi came with the package here. I guess you're supposed to change it." He tapped his index finger to his lips. "But I may change it now you're staying here, just for fun."

"Just for one more night," she said immediately.

"Hmm. Now, do you want to know what animal I liken Rigsby to?"

"No," she said with an eye roll. She shook her head and tapped some keys.

"You're not looking at porn, are you?" he joked. "I have a rather chaste reputation to maintain, Lisbon."

"Oh, since when?" she mumbled under her breath with a raised eyebrow. Louder, "Van Pelt gave me remote access to the tattoo database."

He sighed. "You don't have to go through every tattoo on there tonight. Leave it until tomorrow, take a break. It's been a very long day. Let's watch a movie or something, get a break from all that."

"Jane, the quicker I do it-"

"The quicker you're out of here," he said quietly, looking in front of him, any hint of amusement gone.

She watched his side profile, the slackness in his jaw, the line crinkles around his eyes. She was startled at the openness he was showing her. "I-I was going to say quicker we catch them," she murmured.

He nodded, a sad smile on his lips. She could barely hear him as he spoke. "Same thing isn't it." It wasn't a question.

She swallowed thickly and took a deep breath. She opened her mouth to respond but nothing came to mind that would help make him feel better, only worse. So she said nothing and went back to looking at the laptop on her knees.

A few seconds later he sat back on the couch and turned towards her. "Since you're obviously focused on working the case tonight I need to talk to you about the man who injected you." His tone was stronger now, controlled and more like he was interrogating a suspect than teasing a friend.

She glanced at him from the screen and furrowed her brow. "I told you all I remembered about him today. There was nothing more I recalled. You think I'd lie about something like that?"

"Yes and no," he supplied. "You didn't lie today...or at least I don't believe you did. You didn't recall anything further when you were in that room. But you did lie a year ago. Or at least withheld. There's more about what happened to you there you've never spoken about. Not even to me."

She was caught off guard and blinked quickly. She had no idea he had ever guessed that never mind kept it to himself all this time. She shook her head, an involuntary reaction.

"Don't even think about lying to me, Teresa. You know I'll get the truth from you one way or the other, sooner or later."

He sounded angry now and she got the feeling it wasn't because of what she hadn't told him back then. It was an outlet for his frustration and the anger he surely must still feel about her disappearance from his life or perhaps because her reappearance in it wasn't going according to his plan.

He seemed to realise he was allowing his personal feelings to spill over and exhaled, turned his voice softer, calmer. "I respected your feelings back then, Teresa. I didn't feel it would be helpful in pushing you to recall something you obviously felt was somehow shaming or degrading. I thought...well, I thought in time...if you had stuck around...if we..."

He exhaled and rolled his eyes slightly at his lack of articulation. "I'm not entirely sure how to put this. But..." He licked his lips, frightened now as he took a deep breath, "I know they examined you at the hospital, that there were no signs of sexual assault when they found you." His voice was higher, slightly breathless, "But-but that doesn't mean that there wasn't any-"

"Oh my god, did you think I was raped?" she asked incredulously, almost dropping the laptop from her knees in shock.

He shook his head but then he shrugged. "I-I didn't think so and not as far as that or there would have been evidence of it but...but I knew something happened to you in there you were too ashamed to talk about and...and after you left I started to wonder more if some kind of sexual assault carried out on you was possible."

"You think I would have had sex with you if I'd been assaulted like that just days or weeks before?"

He emitted a long breath. "No. Not at first, of course not. But...but people react to rape or a sexual assault in different ways. I've heard of women who've gone on some kind of sexual rampage after suffering an assault like that, I've read that it empowered them to act that way, even if only for a short time before they faced what happened to them."

She shook her head, almost speechless. She set her laptop on the table slowly and turned towards him. Her eyes circled his face, saw the confusion and worry, the thought that she'd slept with him just because he was convenient somehow and that he wasn't good enough for her to want just for being himself.

For all his superfluous confidence he was still that lonely kid who was told he was never good enough for his father, who never fitted into that life like the other kids on the circuit. His intelligence was as much a curse as it was a gift, especially as a child, she supposed.

She'd carved her heart into stone as the months had gone on since she'd left but she felt like a hot poker had reignited that organ suddenly as it twisted and turned into a dagger as she thought that not only had she hurt him terribly by leaving but that she was responsible for adding to his inferiority complex by her absence as well. Was that partly why he couldn't move on from Red John? Did he really believe himself to be even more unlovable and unworthy of someone's affection because they'd made love?

She licked her lips and took a small breath as she composed her thoughts. She reached out and took his hand that was sitting on his thigh and held it in hers tightly. His eyes darkened and he frowned, his breath accelerating slightly at the instigation of her touch.

She spoke convincingly as she leaned in towards him, attempting to impart as much honesty she could behind her words. Tears gathered in her eyes. "I had sex with you because I...because I wanted _you_ , Patrick Jane. _Only you_. _No one else_. I didn't do it out of some crazy reflex reaction to a sexual assault. How-how could you believe otherwise, even for a second?"

He breathed. He blinked and a tear rolled down his cheek. "You know why now. Because then you left me, Teresa."


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16 – Disclosed and Disguised

 _ **Sacramento.**_

 _ **Present day.**_

She opened her mouth to respond but no words came out under the depth of his gaze. Then he stood up and moved away from the couch quickly, a slight flush of embarrassment across his features that he'd allowed his feelings for her to be so openly displayed.

He opened the door to his balcony and leaned over the circular metal railing as he stood looking at the Capitol Dome illuminated at night.

She followed him and stood awkwardly in the doorway, the hunch of his shoulders evidence of his melancholic mood.

A couple of beats passed, only the traffic noise below filling the quiet.

She cleared her throat. "You were right. I did keep something from you back then," she said, bringing the conversation back to where it had begun in the living room. It seemed like a lifetime ago suddenly.

He spoke with his back to her. "And are you ready to share what that is now?"

"Yes. Yes, of course."

He turned on his heels, any hint of hurt buried deep again and looked at her expectantly.

She took a couple of steps until she was beside him at the metal barrier. "I didn't mention it at the time as it...well, it doesn't help with identifying any of them. Not...not appearance wise."

"And the fact you were ashamed of it."

"Y-yes. That too." She took a breath. "But now, now we know that other women went through what I went through then I need to tell you everything just in case something he said or did makes you understand who we're dealing with better and gives us a better idea of how his mind works or his motivation behind his actions. Or who he works for. Or if he is actually the one in charge."

She placed her hands on the cold rod of brushed steel and looked across to the Capitol, unsure if she could get through her next few sentences if she was looking directly at him. She spoke quickly as if expelling the words as fast as she could voice them would make her less affected with the memories they provoked. She told him about the 'doctor' changing the game between them, his requirement for her to ask for the dose of heroin and his withholding of it from her until she did so, and his allowing her to spiral into withdrawal time and time again and then injecting her anyway when she still refused.

Jane listened attentively, his hands balling into fists as she talked and talked.

She could barely get the words out as she recounted finally giving in to the man in charge of that room, to eventually acquiescing and begging for the shot to be administered. She breathed out heavily after she stopped, wiped stray tears she hadn't realised she'd shed with the palms of her hands.

She whispered in a distant voice, still facing ahead, as she finished by saying, "I thought...I thought I was going to die when he injected me that last time. I...was sure of it, in fact. Then..."

A glimmer of a distressed smile came to her lips, "Then I woke up and I saw you instead in that hospital room. I wasn't sure if any of it was real, to begin with."

She swallowed thickly, still afraid to turn her head to catch his reaction. Then she felt him turn at her side and walk back into his apartment, not uttering a word.

He was pouring himself a glass of Scotch as he stood at the kitchen counter with his back to her when she wandered back in.

His voice shook as he held up the bottle. "You want one?"

"N-No, thanks."

He nodded and sniffed loudly as he downed the drink in one large glug. He ran his right hand down his face as his other hand slammed the tumbler against the counter. It shattered.

That spurred Lisbon into action. "Christ, Jane! You idiot!"

She moved quickly to shift him out of the way of the broken glass as he stared at the small cut left on his hand between his thumb and index finger, obviously surprised at what he'd done to himself.

"What the hell were you thinking, you damn fool!" He didn't respond. Urgently, "Band-aids?"

Distracted, "Uh...bathroom cabinet."

* * *

She was back a few moments later to find him sitting on a chair at the dining table, his injured hand held aloft with a piece of kitchen roll to stem the blood flow but his focus set staring into space. She sat in a chair beside him, took his hand in hers and began to clean the wound.

"Ouch!" The application of antiseptic lotion combined with Lisbon's use of tweezers to remove a shard of glass roused him from his stupor.

"Stop being a baby, it was your own stupid fault. You're lucky you don't need stitches, you damn fool."

He gazed at her, head down as she attended to him. He wished he felt composed enough to joke about her bedside manner leaving a lot to be desired. When he didn't say anything he noticed her blink quickly and lick her lips. He hadn't responded to what she'd just told him and she was nervous about his reaction. Did she really think he'd share her shame at giving in and giving up when the opposite was, in fact, true?

He reached over and pinned a lock of her hair behind her ear. She stopped working on his hand and froze and he could feel the pulse point in her wrist quicken as it lay in his palm. He moved closer and kissed her forehead with the gentlest of butterfly kisses, his free hand on her cheek.

She looked up, the first time since she'd told him the whole wretched story of her time in that room. Terrified eyes met his. He moved back, afraid he'd kiss her for real if he continued to be in such close proximity. "You have absolutely nothing to be ashamed of, Teresa. You had no choice, you might have thought you did but it was always only an illusion."

She went back to placing some gauze on his cut, apparent she was glad of something to occupy her after his comment. A few seconds later she was finished and leaned back in her chair. "You really believe that?"

"I do. There was no way anyone could have held out indefinitely. It's called addiction for precisely that reason."

Disheartened, "Yeah, suppose." Her haunted stare went to the fireplace; her mind set on reliving events a year before. He wished he could make her believe the truth in what he'd said.

He stated instead, "That's how you knew you'd get through the withdrawal, because you'd been down that road already."

"Well, not quite all the way down it but, yeah, I knew I'd be able to cope with the physical elements of it."

"How many times?"

She faced him, back in the present again. "Huh?"

"How many times did you refuse? How many times did you start to withdraw?"

"I don't know, Jane. Time was...not quite so linear, if you know what I mean. And there are still gaps in what I recall."

"More than twice?"

She nodded. "Yeah, definitely more than that. Maybe...five...six?" she guessed.

He shook his head. "Extraordinary."

"How do you mean?"

"Like I said before, I have no idea how anyone could get through that. Especially not to that extent. Especially when you knew it wouldn't matter, when you'd end up with the needle anyway."

She half shrugged. "You sound just like he did. He couldn't believe why I kept refusing too."

He leaned forward and put his elbows on the table, ran his left hand over the plaster she'd placed on his right. Softly, "Why did you?"

She said nothing for a long moment. Then she whispered in a shaky voice, "Because it was the only thing I had left, Jane. The only weapon left in my arsenal I could use to fight. M-my free will." A tear rolled down her cheek and she batted it away immediately. "And, and then he took that from me too."

Jane only realised his hand had balled into a fist again when he felt the pain of the cut. He relaxed it and breathed out. "We're going to catch them, Lisbon. All of them. You have my word on that."

"I believe you," she said, staring into his eyes.

He smiled softly at her before clearing his throat. "Did he say anything else? Apart from asking you why you kept refusing?"

"Ah...my father...he mentioned him."

"Oh? How so?"

"He said I was just like him, an addict too." She laughed softly, mirthlessly. "He was right. Is right, I guess. I'll always be one now no matter if I never take another drug in my life or not."

"You are nothing like your father," Jane told her with determination, his gaze persistent.

She shook her head. "It's okay that I am. I accepted that a long time ago."

Frustrated, "Lisbon-"

"Let me finish. You know, when I used to think about my father...before this happened to me, I was so angry at him. Even all those years after his death I couldn't let go of the rage. He was dead and I was still mad as hell about what he'd done. And I'm," she looked down to her hands, "and I'm not just talking about the beatings."

As she paused he said, "You're talking about his committing suicide too."

She nodded and began playing with her fingers, a new habit he'd noticed in her when she was nervous. "I hated him more for that than the beatings. Not at first...at first it was a relief to know he'd never lay a hand on any one of us ever again. It was peaceful at last, you know. But then...then I had to keep the family together because there was no more money coming in. Not that there was ever much and he used to drink most of it but he'd give me something from his paycheck every week to at least put food on the table.

"But then I had to work in a crappy diner and scrounge food from there to pay the bills, babysit all hours to clothe us. If the house hadn't been paid for after my mom died because of some insurance policy we'd have lost it, for sure. There was no way Jimmy or even Tommy, maybe, wouldn't have been taken into care otherwise. Stan had to do the same, take whatever crappy jobs there were so we could get by. If I hadn't already got a scholarship at College I'd never been able to go there. And my brothers never did."

She laughed. "Not that education was ever that important to them but...but maybe they'd have gotten proper careers for themselves than just getting by like they do now if he hadn't killed himself."

"You can't blame yourself for that, Lisbon. They're grown men. They could have applied themselves and got the careers they wanted just like you did."

"They didn't have as many good years as I did. Especially Jimmy. It was different for me."

"I doubt the fact you had what's considered a happy family unit for a few years longer has any bearing on the fact they can't always get their shit together...but, in any case, you shouldn't blame yourself. You had a right to go after what you wanted. And, if the beatings had intensified...well, that's a far worse scenario to imagine than them struggling financially now some of the time."

"Yeah, I guess you're right."

"So...what you were just saying before that...?"

She ran her tongue across her upper lip. "Right. I hated him for committing suicide. For wimping out like that. I could never understand how he could have just given up on life...on us. But when I was in that room, experiencing what he must have experienced...experiencing the desire and the craving for something I knew was terrible for me-"

"You found yourself identifying with him."

She nodded. "In some ways, and I know this is going to sound so messed up – in some ways it made me feel close to him again. For the first time in years, I remembered the love I had for him and not the hate." She rolled her eyes at him. "Crazy, right? That it took something so awful for me to find some kind of closure with that time in my life."

Jane chuckled lightly. "Well, there's not a whole lot that happened in that room that wasn't crazy so it kinda fits in with the rest."

"I guess," she snorted.

The smile dropped from Jane's lips as another penny dropped. "You said you identified with him, not just with his addiction, though, was it?" His voice was serious and laced with worry. He pierced her with his gaze. "When you finally succumbed, why did you? Was it just because you couldn't hold out or was there another reason behind it too?"

When she didn't reply he nodded and continued, his words picking up speed. "You said before that you thought you were going to die and not wake up. Was-was that what you wanted, Teresa?"

When she blinked twice within a second he shook his head and got up from the table. He began to clean up the glass he'd smashed without a word. He didn't try to hide the stiffness in his posture.

"You don't know what it was like, Jane," she stated clearly as she got to her feet. "You have no goddamn idea what it was like for me in there."

He stopped sweeping shards of glass into the dustpan he was using and nodded. "No, I do not. I just never-" He stopped and began to sweep up again. "It doesn't matter. Sorry."

"What?" she snapped, standing at his back, "imagined Saint Teresa harbouring such thoughts? It was okay for you to try to kill yourself once but not okay for me to want myself dead?!"

He rounded on her, dropping the brush in his hands. "Precisely! You're not..." His voice trailed off as he drew a deep breath. "Why didn't you tell me all this at the time?"

"You know why. I was ashamed, Jane. Ashamed of all of it. And...you already pitied me enough-"

"I never meant my concern to come off that way, Lisbon."

She sighed and leant back against the kitchen counter. "I know you didn't. You were much better at hiding it than the others. And I did appreciate you acting normally around me...well, as normal goes for you."

"High praise, indeed, that I can pull off an act better than Van Pelt and Rigsby," he remarked, quirking an eyebrow.

She smiled lightly.

"I'm sorry about what I said – about you trying to kill yourself. I shouldn't have brought that up, it was out of line."

He took up the brush again with a shrug. "It was a long time ago. So...I do understand how helpless and desperate you must have felt even if I don't understand the intricacies involved in your situation."

She pondered that for a moment. "You're right. Sorry."

He looked up at her with a smile as he hunched over and picked up a piece of glass. "We're quite the dysfunctional pair, huh?"

A smile crept across her lips. "That's the understatement of the century, I think. More now than ever."

He laughed and opened the bin to empty the dustpan. "Just be careful if you're barefoot around here in the morning."

"Okay, thanks. So, any new theories for me?" she asked, injecting some brightness into her tone.

"Not yet. Need to think about it some more."

"All right. Let me know if you come up with anything." She went to go back to her laptop.

"Haven't you done enough of that tonight?" he said.

She looked at the laptop and nodded. "Yeah, maybe so. I need to email Mike, though."

"Oh, why so?" Jane called to her from the kitchen. "You have a thing for the older man all of a sudden, do you? Or is it the bald head?" he joked, trying to lighten the atmosphere for both their sakes.

"Very funny," she said, lifting the lid of the computer. "I need to see if he'll ship some clothes here. I don't really want him going through my stuff but I only packed for a couple of days. Now I'm going to be here a little longer I need more sent out."

"Oh, well, I can help with that," Jane said, coming to stand beside her.

She furrowed her brow. "I'm capable of asking him myself."

"Not that," he said with slight exasperation. He nodded towards the corridor behind him. "Come on." He began to walk away.

She followed him, still wearing the same frown. As they passed his spare room and the bathroom she realised they were going into his bedroom. She stopped short just before he opened the door.

He chuckled as he saw her look of panic. "Christ, Lisbon, it's only a bedroom, not a minefield."

He was still smiling as he led her into the room, its azure walls and pure white cotton bedcovers drawing warmth from the shiny oak king sized bed and hardwood flooring. Her eyes were drawn to a set of small photographs in black wood frames that were dotted on the wall opposite the bed beside the window.

"Van Pelt's housewarming present," Jane said when he noticed her looking at the set of four photo frames all depicting members of the CBI team in various candid poses. She remembered the evening they were taken in O'Malley's like it was yesterday. Rigsby had bought a new camera to capture Ben's growing up so it had been unpacked and passed around the table to get some practice shots in.

Unusually they'd all gone out to dinner one evening after working all hours on a hard case. It wasn't unusual for them to dine together but they normally only did so if they were working a case out of town for the night. But for once, Bertram had loosened the coffers on his budget and allowed Lisbon to take her team out to celebrate, even if the said budget only stretched to their local pub.

It was just a few weeks before the team fell apart for the first time with Jane's moonlight flit to Vegas. It was almost hard to believe he was the same person who was haunted by Red John that night as he regaled them with magic tricks, mind reading and outrageous storytelling. It was the closest they'd ever been as a team at that time or since.

As she looked at a photograph of Jane grinning at her as she rolled her eyes her heart ached for more times like that. Tears gathered in her eyes.

"It was a fun night," he said softly at her side with a smile.

She nodded. "It was. Wished I'd appreciated that time of my life more."

"You make it sounds like the good days are over." He paused. "They're absolutely not."

She sighed. "No?" she smiled through glassy eyes.

"We're still here, aren't we?" he whispered. "At many points of my life I never thought both of us would make it here."

She turned towards him. Puzzled, "And where is 'here' exactly, Jane?"

He stared at her for a long moment. "Alive. Breathing. Together. Better than not, right?"

When she didn't respond immediately he pointed towards a set of full length white louvre doors at the far wall facing his bed. He took a couple of steps and pulled on the antique silver knobs on either side to open them. "Et voila!" he grinned.

"What is this?" she said, staring at eight large brown boxes.

"Your stuff," he shrugged, lifting one down from the highest shelf and placing it on the floor. "Well, some of it. Most of it, actually. The personal items you had including some clothing."

As he fetched another box she read the black writing in felt tip on the first box he'd placed at her feet. It read _leather jackets._

Perplexed, "This is...how? The lease on my condo ran out ages ago."

"We cleared it out for you when it did. Well, I supervised mainly. Heavy lifting isn't good for my back and Cho and Rigsby are better at that type of manual-"

"Jane!" she exclaimed. She shook her head. "What the hell?"

His smile widened when he saw her look of utter bewilderment. "We just removed your personal effects when your lease expired, Lisbon. Didn't seem right for them to be thrown out. I had the biggest space in my closet so I took the lion's share. Cho has those dreadful management books of yours and most of your other reading materials. Rigsby has your sporting memorabilia – you may hope he hasn't sold any of that on Ebay – and Grace has some knick knacks and some more clothes and shoes of yours, I believe."

He winked at her, "And don't worry, she was in charge of packing up your bedroom so I haven't been privy to whatever lingerie you may own." He laughed, "Well, no more than I've already seen with my own eyes."

She gaped at him, not even registering the remark he'd just made. She just got out, "You-you all did this for me?"

His smile dropped. "You said you'd be back in your note. So, I figured you wouldn't want to go hunting for a new place to live when you did. You didn't take much with you as you left in somewhat of a hurry so there was no reason to believe you wouldn't be back." He looked to the closet and pulled at another box with more force than the first ones he'd extracted.

"It's okay to be angry with me about that, Jane. You're more than entitled."

He quirked an eyebrow as he read the contents of the box. Quietly, "Who says I'm not?"

"Then it's okay to show that you are. I can handle it."

He turned towards her. "And where will my yelling at you get us, huh?"

"Might make you feel better," she shrugged.

"To make you feel worse? I'll pass, thanks."

As they silently gathered up a box each that read _bedroom_ and took it to Jane's spare room, he said, "Should be enough to keep you clothed for a few more days. You may need to run some things through a wash but Van Pelt used some kind of fragrance sachet when she was packing so you might not. There's a laundry room in the basement if you need it. Just come and help yourself to whatever else you want to go through when you've finished with this lot."

Sincerely, "Thanks, Jane."

"My pleasure," he smiled. "But it wasn't just me, Lisbon."

She nodded and drew her lips into a thin line. "I know. I've been a pretty shitty friend to all of you, not just you."

"They'd still do anything for you despite that."

She smiled and nodded as her throat constricted. It didn't need to be said that he was of the same mind.

"I-I don't know how to make it up to them." _Or to you._

"I'm sure you'll find a way," he said with a glimmer of a smile. He nodded, "Okay, I'm going to bed, set my mind to work on theories about our psychopathic would be doctor."

"Good luck with that. I'll see if I can try to set my mind on _not_ thinking about him."

"Well, you know where I am if you can't sleep," he grinned.

She laughed despite the grimness of the conversation. Then laughed again at laughing. It felt so inordinately good to laugh properly again. "I think I'll manage but thanks for the offer."

He shrugged, still wearing a grin. "Offer's always available to you, Teresa. You know I'm prone to a cuddle or two."

She stalled a little at the mention of her first name and his intimation but he turned his back on her to leave with a chuckle. As he was about to open the door another thought occurred to her. She said, "Hang on, you said you cleared all my stuff out when my lease expired. But that was nine months ago. You didn't have this place then."

He made a disgruntled response as he turned back to her. "Well, I may have extended your lease for a few more months first."

"You-you extended my lease? You've been paying for my condo?"

"Not anymore. I let it go when..." Amusement vanished, he licked his lips and looked to his shoes.

She quickly did some calculations in her head. "When you called me after Red John was dead and I didn't come back here, then you let it go."

He raised his face to her. "Shortly after I moved in here. Figured if that phone call didn't make you return then nothing ever would."

Before she could say a word he quickly turned his back on her again and left the room.

She spoke in a whisper to the back of the door, the sound of his footsteps receding down the corridor. "I know I should have come back after that call. Even if there was a reason I didn't."

* * *

 **A/N: Very happy to be back to this story again and I know a few of you have been patiently waiting an update while I finished another one. Updates should be more regular now as I have only two current ongoing fics. No past events in this chapter but they will be back, the present day kind of got away from me! And there will also be some developments case wise next chapter.**


	17. Chapter 17

**A/N: So sorry for not responding to reviews lately but please know I appreciate every single one on this story, the conclusion to** _ **Serendipitous Saturation**_ **and the surprisingly well received two shot tag** _ **A Night at the Airstream**_ **. I will try to do so much better from this point on.**

 **Some of you had questions over certain behaviours in the last chapter so I hope Jane's introspection at the start of the present day section helps to answer some of your concerns/comments. Thank you.**

* * *

Chapter 17 – Pretence

 _ **Sacramento.**_

 _ **Around twelve months earlier.**_

Lisbon woke three days after leaving the hospital, the smell of coffee making her nostrils twitch. Her sense was smell was coming back to her with more force and she allowed herself a small smile at the delicious aroma as she cracked her eyelids open.

The last day or so had been spent sleeping mainly with occasional bouts of nausea and picking at food Jane pressed upon her. She'd drank as much water as she could keep down to stave off dehydration, and that, at least, had made her consultant less of a tyrant where the food was concerned.

Jane had stayed in her bedroom with her the night her fever had spiked, positioning himself in an uncomfortable chair by the window for much of it. She was aware of his hand in hers at certain points as she'd drifted in and out of sleep, the soothing rub of his thumb against her hand caressing her back to oblivion when she felt half awake in the depths of a nightmare, and pulling her back from the precipice of being in that room again.

The following night they'd argued about the sleeping arrangements. He looked like hell after a sleepless night in that chair and she wasn't about to have him spend another in it. He hadn't slept properly in days or weeks as it was. But the truth was she was scared to be on her own after the ambulance had been called and he must have seen it on her too. She'd never experienced that feeling before, that all-encompassing need for human companionship at a time of hardship. She had always soldiered on solo, much more comfortable with being the one providing support, not the one needing it. It was what she did – and who she was. For a fiercely independent person, it scared her that her emotions and needs could have turned upside down. It just couldn't be permanent, she'd told herself vehemently.

He'd suggested a compromise that she would sleep on the couch and he'd sleep on the recliner beside it. It comforted them both - he was as afraid of leaving her side as she was in being without him. It wasn't healthy, they both knew that, and the time would come where they'd both have to go back to their real lives and take a step back from each other again. As he was showing no signs of being the one to do it then she would have to break the cycle. She had to or the bastards in that room really had won.

Jane sauntered in from the kitchen with a cup of coffee and a smile. "Hey, you're awake. You slept better last night," he said as he studied her openly.

She assessed his appearance. The smile fooled no one and he looked exhausted. "Did you sleep?" she said, breathing in the smell and taking the first sip.

"Off and on," he said casually. He picked up the blanket beside her and began to fold it. "Your sense of smell is coming back, I see."

"Yeah." She screwed her face up. "How'd you know that?"

"One of these days you might just stop asking me that. You smiled just now before you tasted it. First time I've seen a real one the past few days, I think."

He settled the pillow on top of the blanket and took a seat opposite.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I've been a pain in the ass, I know."

"Meh," he waved. "Could have been worse." He looked at her more closely. "You're looking better too. Your pupils are much clearer, complexion is clearer too."

"Gee, thanks," she smiled. "Maybe I'll enter the next Miss America pageant."

"That's something I'd pay to see," he grinned.

Sincerely, "I really do appreciate you seeing me through this, Jane."

"No thanks required. But Lisbon...you're not out of the woods yet, you know. While the physical withdrawal has obviously lessened you're still going to have cravings. Not to mention starting to deal with the emotional fallout-"

"I'll be fine," she interrupted, getting to her feet. "I know I have a way to go but talking about isn't going to help." She took a long sip of coffee. "I'm going for a shower. I'm starving if you feel like cooking us something." She smiled at him with just a trace of a seductive edge.

He blinked uneasily. "Ah...ah...sure...pancakes okay?"

"Perfect, thanks," she beamed.

* * *

They ate breakfast together, Jane satisfied when he saw Lisbon scoffing two pancakes greedily as he leaned back in his chair balancing a cup in his right hand. She was dressed in an emerald blouse and dark blue jeans, a welcome change from the comfort of sweatpants she'd been living in. Her hair was washed, dried and styled simply, its tresses hanging down her back. If he hadn't known what had happened to her he'd have barely noticed the difference from a month before. Some dark circles under her eyes that she'd covered up with concealer and some weight loss were the only indicators of what she'd suffered. He didn't buy the act she was putting on for her own benefit (or his) for a second. And he knew exactly what brought about this sudden change in appearance.

"So, do you want to go for a walk today, get some fresh air?" he asked.

She pushed some crumbs off her lips, swallowed a bite. "Well, yeah, I-I thought I might get some air today, actually."

"No," he said, shaking his head, cutting to the chase. "There's no way you're ready to go back to work, Lisbon."

"That's not your call," she said coolly, sipping on some orange juice without looking at him.

He rolled his eyes. "You're an intelligent woman, Teresa. How do you imagine you're going to operate in that environment at the moment? It's hardly a job where you don't have to be at the top of your game, is it?"

She pierced him with an unwavering gaze. "Thanks, appreciate your support, Jane."

"You know I'm only telling you this-"

"For my own good?" she snapped.

"It shouldn't need to be said at all," he bit back. "You're not ready and you know you're not ready."

She got up from the table and threw her napkin down. "And what's the alternative, huh? Stay here and play co-dependent families with you forever instead?!" She took a deep breath, controlled her temper. "You need to get back to work and so do I, Jane. We need to stand on our own two feet again alone."

"You're forcing yourself to get over this far too quickly, but you're just papering over the cracks. If you don't want me here then fine, I'll leave but you're not ready to go back to work."

She crashed back into her chair and sighed. "All I know how to do is my job, Jane. I can't stay in this apartment anymore. I need to take some control back of my life. Surely you must get that."

"Of course I do. But...why don't you go to Chicago instead? Visit your family? Change of scene might help."

She raised an eyebrow. "Seriously? My family? You want me to kill myself?"

A slight smile graced his lips then he became serious again. "You haven't even replied to the messages they left you since you got back. They must be worried sick."

She shrugged and looked at the plate in front of her. "I sent them all texts to say that I was okay and not to worry."

"It's hardly the same thing. If you won't let me help you then let them, Teresa. You don't always have to be the strong one."

She blinked a tear away. "It is when I'm around them, Jane. It's who I am to them. I-I can't let them see me like this."

He reached over and took her hand gently. "You've just admitted you're not ready for work by saying that, you realise."

She looked up at him with teary eyes. "Then help me get ready."

Perplexed, "How do you mean?"

"I called Bertram-"

"You called Bertram?" His tone was laced with irritation and concern.

"Yes. He wants to see me in an hour to discuss my rejoining the team. I need you to teach me some breathing exercises or whatever to get through the meeting. He's a slippery son of a bitch."

He let go of her hand and shook his head. "No. Absolutely not. I don't want you anywhere near that man."

"He's the director of the division. I can hardly avoid him forever. And you have no proof he has anything to do with what happened to me or Red John."

At Jane's hardened expression she softened her own. "Jane, please. I'll be careful, I promise. You can keep an eye on me at the office if you insist. I'll probably just be doing some paperwork until I get back into the swing of things. Cho will be in charge until I pass whatever psych test I'll no doubt need to take. I just need to keep my mind busy. You know what it's like to need a distraction better than anyone, something to fill your time. And it'll also allow you to get back to that list of yours, you've been neglecting it while you've been here with me. If he was the one behind what happened to me-"

"He was-"

"Then this kills two birds with one stone. You get back to your list, keep watch on me at the same time and I get to drown in blissful bureaucracy again." She smiled. "It's the best way forward for both of us."

He snorted. "Wow, you're trying to manipulate me, huh? Using Red John as bait, too. Nice touch."

She flushed but then shrugged. "Will you help me or not? Because I'm going to that meeting either way. And I'll go through whatever hoops Bertram makes me go through to get back to my job."

He knew she meant that. If Bertram wanted her to change the oil in his car for a year she'd agree to it presently. And the last thing he wanted was for to humiliate herself in front of that man. "Fine. I'll help you relax. On one condition. I'm going to that meeting with you. I need to see how he acts around you."

"Fine, whatever," she sighed.

* * *

 _ **Sacramento.**_

 _ **Present Day.**_

He breathed in. Breathed out slowly. Again and again. _One. Two. One. Two_.

Jane opened his eyes and adjusted the pillow behind his head with a huff of discontent, his method of lulling himself to sleep failing him. He lay back down again and interlaced his fingers across his stomach. Lisbon's words from earlier ran through his mind, over and over again. He knew she'd been through hell in that room but after hearing the full extent of her torture he wasn't sure 'hell' was a strong enough description of her imprisonment. And he couldn't bear to delve into thinking about her wanting to die.

When she'd recounted her tale, he'd become so angry with what that bastard had done to her he was incapable of words to soothe or sympathise straight away. More worryingly, he'd allowed his rage at what she'd been through to show right in front of her.

It was in keeping with how he'd been acting the last couple of days. He'd noticed a strange pattern in his behaviour since he'd saw her again. The longer the time he spent with her, the more he seemed incapable of keeping his feelings hidden when he was alone with her, his mask of usual circumspection thinned to tissue paper.

He didn't know why exactly – perhaps it was because Red John was dead so his usual caution was ebbing away gradually with the passage of time. Or perhaps a part of him wanted to atone for the trickery she'd witnessed from him in the past. Or perhaps the gap left by her absence in his life had made him want to start afresh with her as a more honest man now she was present in it again.

Perhaps some measure of all of these.

Still, he wasn't able to express fully what she meant to him. But maybe that was for the best. For now, anyway. He'd changed tack quickly earlier when he saw her expression as he'd caressed her cheek, terrified he was about to voice more than a friend's concern for what had happened to her.

He wasn't sure what he would have said anyway. 'I'm sorry' was certainly not enough to cut it. And kissing her would have been entirely inappropriate with how things currently stood between them. He'd noticed her relief when he asked more impersonal questions of her time in the room and brought the conversation back to practicalities than waste time on sentimental mollycoddling. That much hadn't changed about her – she was more comfortable in discussing what could be deciphered from actions even when they related to her as long as the subject did not stray or pertain to her emotional wellbeing. It was a quality they shared - a blessing when they worked together, successfully closing cases even when personal tensions between them had, at times, been high, but also a curse when one of them pushed to dig beyond their working relationship. The night they shared was the closest they'd ever come to crashing those barriers.

So, he'd been surprised she'd opened up to him about her father but grateful she'd felt trust in him to do so. Maybe the honesty he was displaying was having the effect of reciprocity. But this 'new' version of Lisbon was more complex than the previous one he'd known so well and he had no idea if the trust would last or if it only pertained to certain matters.

What he should have told her earlier was that she wasn't a shitty friend too but he'd let it hang in the air instead. He was hurt and angry, she was right about that, and a part of him that he hated wanted to punish her still for staying away. It was shameful considering the trauma she'd been through and his own six-month disappearance in their lives but he had never depicted himself as a perfect man incapable of hypocrisy. And she knew that truth better than anyone ever had.

The bed frame creaked as he rose to sit up on it, his eyes straying the photo frames in front of him. He didn't need daylight to see them, every pixel of those images was imprinted on his brain. She'd been wistful earlier upon seeing them. Or maybe wishful was a better word of choice. He just hoped he could elicit the same strength and sparkle in her that he looked at night after night in those images once again. His gut told him he was in for a tumultuous road ahead before there was any chance of that.

He ran a hand down his face and heard her door open and close, quiet footsteps in the hall echoing in the other direction. He glanced at his clock, one forty-eight staring back at him in bold bright red numerals.

* * *

Somehow he'd managed to fall asleep after three am and woke after seven with a long stretch of his arms and a loud yawn. Four hours wasn't bad and probably more than Lisbon had managed.

After showering quickly he entered the living room and found the laptop closed on his coffee table and a notepad next to it with nothing written on the lined page in front of him. He surveyed the scene before him, noting that she must have spent another hour or two searching the database as he'd battled with sleep.

He'd heard her moving around in his spare room as he'd passed by it on the way to the living space and knew she'd be out soon. He quickly grabbed his cell from his pocket and made a call.

When she arrived twenty minutes later he was flipping pancakes and whistling merrily. "Good morning," he smiled upon hearing her footsteps.

"Hey."

"How are you feeling?"

"Oh, you know. Good, I guess. Bit tired. Any new theories for me this morning after our chat?"

"Hmm. None as of yet," he muttered quietly. "Still working on it."

"I'm sorry about last night," he said gently, turning around to get his first look at her.

Dressed in a pair of dark blue jeans, a black blouse and a black leather jacket she shook her head. "For what?"

"Guilt tripping you still for leaving," he shrugged. "I'm hardly a paragon of virtue where that's concerned, am I?"

"Doesn't matter. It's in the past, Jane. Let's leave it there."

"I will if you will." He went back to making breakfast at the stove. "I see you were up last night again going through the database? Get anywhere?"

"Ah...no...no luck so far."

"I see. Well, maybe today you'll strike lucky."

"Yeah, maybe," she mumbled.

"What's all this in aid of?" She gestured to the breakfast spread he'd laid out consisting of pancakes, bacon, and fresh fruit.

"Breakfast. I know you were supposed to be on egg duty but not sure I could suffer that two mornings in a row." He grinned and passed her a cup of Twinings Breakfast tea. She breathed in and sipped it. "Thanks," she barely looked at him, "but I'm not that hungry, Jane."

"Meh, you can manage some fruit at least," he said with an easy smile. "Take a seat at the breakfast bar." He fished a key out of his pocket and handed it to her before she moved. "Oh, and I forgot to give this to you last night."

Perplexed, "What's this for?"

"To get in the front door here, what else?" he laughed. "You should have learned to lockpick from me years ago, would have saved me the bother of getting it cut yesterday."

She stared at the shiny silver object in her hand. "You got me a key to your place?"

He laughed softly again. "When you say it like that it sounds like this arrangement is a lot more risqué than it actually is."

"Jane-"

He sighed. "Lisbon, let's abandon the conversation where you tell me you can't stay here and I have to convince you it's in both our best interests for you to continue to do so, shall we? Hmm?"

She tucked the key in the front of her jeans pocket. She bristled, "Fine. Okay. For now."

"Thank you. I'm sure we'll find plenty else to argue about while you're here so don't fret."

She sat on the barstool at the counter behind where Jane was cooking but her right leg bounced off the wooden support of the breakfast stool as soon as she did. She took a long sip of tea and ate a strawberry. Three seconds later she got off the stool. "Look, I'm...I think I'll take a walk to Headquarters this morning than drive there with you. Could use the fresh air, to be honest. Would help to wake myself up a bit too."

He answered as if she hadn't spoken, his back to her. "Did you know that the history of the pancake dates back to prehistoric times? Romans used to call them _alia dulcia_ too, did you know, translates as _other sweets_? Interesting, isn't it?"

Distracted, "Yeah, fascinating," she said quickly. "Look-"

"Sit back down," he said, turning around, his face all at once like stone and scrutinising every inch of her.

She drew her head back at the sudden sharpness in his tone. "Excuse me?"

"Sit down," he said, softer but still resolute.

He took a breath and deposited a pancake and some bacon onto a plate and pushed it in front of her.

"I told you I'm not hungry."

"No? You don't think you should have something in your stomach before you go confront John Medina?"

She visibly blanched and reached for the breakfast bar stool at the mention of the name, stumbling back into it. "How...?"

He leaned his palms against the counter in front of her and shook his head. "You did well by ripping off four pages from the front of the notepad and not just the one you presumably wrote his name and address down on. No chance of me using a pencil to scratch at the page under to get his details.

"But the fact you ripped off four pages simultaneously – easy to figure out when the shreds of paper left from them hung in the same straight line – was suspicious enough to warrant some further attention."

She swallowed thickly under his steadfast gaze as he took another breath then continued, "Now you're wondering how I got his name, then, huh?" He let the question hang in the air for a second. "Any guesses?"

She licked her lips and nodded after a second or two. "I'm assuming you called Van Pelt, got her to check the last names I checked on the database from her end."

He nodded with a smile. "Got it in one." He sighed wearily. "She checked the log. Your last access was at three thirteen this morning. So, naturally, I would have expected to have been woken shortly after with a break in the case like this. Or at least told about it as soon as it was daylight. The fact I wasn't led me to one conclusion – that you had decided to go after him all on your own."

She bit the inside of her cheek and shrugged. "I just wanted to make sure it was him first before I told anyone."

"He's ex-military, barely any job history on paper since he was dishonourably discharged three years ago. He's a mercenary, a hired hand. You don't have to be a rocket scientist to figure out he's our man, Lisbon. Van Pelt sent me a photograph of him. The tattoo is pretty much exactly how you described. You know it's him, knew it as soon as you saw the tattoo."

Determined, "Fine, you're right. I wanted to see him alone. You know Hudson won't let me talk to him if he's brought into the CBI for questioning. This is the only shot I have at looking at him in the eye, Jane. I just want to talk to him before that happens."

"You're telling me all you want to do is talk to the man?" Before she responded he added, "Then why are you carrying a gun? And, speaking of that, where'd you even get a gun? You didn't bring one with you from Maine."

He realised a second later. "Of course, the boxes from your condo. Van Pelt must have packed one you had back then away for you. Damn it, I should have checked. Just figured you'd taken them all with you when you left."

"So? The gun?" he asked again. "Why?"

"He's a dangerous man."

Jane nodded. "Absolutely. Even more reason not to speak to him alone."

She shook her head. "How'd you even know I have a gun on me?"

"Your stance is different when you're carrying one, off-balanced...slightly. But I doubt you're carrying a weapon just for your own protection."

Surprised, "You think I want to kill him?"

"I would if I were you," he replied evenly.

She got off the stool. "Well, you're not me, Jane."

He advanced until he faced her. "Are you really telling me that seeing that man again will not make you want to hurt him? The fact you weren't going to tell me about your plan means you do. You know I'd have gone with you to see him without Hudson ever hearing about it-"

"I didn't want-"

"What? Me to become involved in something like that? Deniability, is that where you're going?" He almost laughed.

"You used to use it often enough," she barked.

"Yes, to protect you-"

"Yeah, well, I was just trying-"

"Please, Teresa, I don't give a damn about the career I have at the CBI or need you to save me from losing it. And you know that too. You didn't tell me because you knew I'd try to stop you from doing something stupid when you saw him!"

"Okay! So maybe I didn't want you to stop me!" she yelled. "He's part of this, Jane. That...animal saw what was happening to me every day. I begged him; did I ever tell you that? I begged him to make it stop, begged him to help me! And he did NOTHING!"

She was shouting and crying now and Jane went to put his arms around her. She pulled back and shook her head, sniffed loudly to stop herself as she backed away from him.

"Just let me go see him," she said, catching a breath. "You can come now if you want-"

"It's too late for that," he said, putting his hands in his pockets. "He's on his way to the CBI as we speak. Rigsby and Van Pelt went to pick him up for questioning."

She blinked wildly. She croaked, "What? How could you-?"

Calmly, "I'm doing exactly what you asked me to do in the attic, Lisbon. You said you weren't sure you could keep within the lines. So, you asked me to do it for you. Believe me, I'm not doing it for that bastard's protection. I'm doing it for yours."

She slumped back into the stool with a long sigh, her anger spent to a simmer.

"Come on, let's have some breakfast then go to the office," Jane suggested.

"What's the point?" she said, picking at a piece of pancake. "I won't be allowed within a hundred feet of him."

"That's not true. You need to identify him, after all. Make sure he's our guy."

Despondently, "Yeah and then I go back into my box, huh? Allow the real detectives to get what they need from him instead."

"Cho's the best agent you trained. If anyone can get him talking he can."

"He's military trained. He's not going to roll over on whoever paid him that easy, Jane."

"Then I'll have to get creative if Cho fails."

She looked at him and nodded after a long moment. Steadily, "Yeah, maybe creativity is what's required here."

Jane blinked as goose bumps bristled on his arms at her words, suddenly feeling off kilter.

* * *

 **A/N: This will be the last update from me for a few weeks for this fic and Reconnect, heading away on holiday next week so not sure when I'll get back to writing or updating when I get back. But I will as soon as I can, I promise. Thank you.**


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter 18 – Back to Work

 _ **Sacramento.**_

 _ **Around twelve months earlier.**_

The Capitol Dome's shadow showered them in darkness as they approached it, ominous and oppressive. Lisbon's boots clanked over the pavement in quick strides as Jane walked beside her. Her eyes darted from side to side but her head faced down as she took each step. She didn't make eye contact with a soul. Her pace only increased as the crowds did around its entrance, her mouth gaping open slightly as her lungs began to fight for air with each commanding stride.

Jane was only half kidding when he told her he was about to get a stitch in his side and to slow down. She ignored him and walked on, the sound of her soles echoing loudly in the cavernous hallway when they made it inside.

Still physically weak, she had to stop and take a long breath at the bottom of the stairs as she looked at the steep assault upwards, allowing Jane to gratefully do the same.

When they made it to the inner sanctum of Bertram's office's waiting room without running into anyone she knew well she exhaled loudly and managed to relax her shoulders as they sat in stiff backed chairs outside. Jane watched her perform the breathing exercises he'd taught her before they'd left her place. He said nothing, knowing that she needed concentration right now, not idle chatter. It was only natural for her to feel a disconnect to the world happening around her, the first time she'd been in it since her captivity. He was surer than ever she wasn't ready to return to work, further solidified when she jumped like a startled rabbit at the noise of Bertram's door opening. His assistant came out and ushered them inside quickly.

"Lisbon!" Bertram's voice boomed as he stood up from behind his desk. He looked at Jane with a question. "And Patrick...you're here too, I see."

Jane smiled his worst fake smile that Bertram would see through in a second. "Gale."

"Hope you don't mind Jane sitting in on this," Lisbon said. Her voice shook a little and she cleared her throat. She laughed nervously, "Can't get rid of him since I got back."

Bertram focused on her. "Of course...of course, please, take a seat." He waved to the two chairs opposite him.

Jane sat back comfortably, crossed his legs and placed his hands on his stomach, interlocking his fingers loosely. Lisbon, on the other hand, leaned forward eagerly. She went to speak, to recite whatever speech she'd prepared, Jane supposed as he read her clearly anxious demeanour.

Bertram talked first. "So, Teresa, how _are_ you?" His voice was outright patronising and Jane emitted a small sigh of contempt.

"Fine, sir," Lisbon said. "Much better." She nodded her head towards Jane. "Jane's been helping me since I left the hospital and I'm feeling more like myself every day."

"Mm," Bertram offered, casting a quick glance at Jane who smiled and nodded amiably.

"Well, I'm relieved to hear you're feeling better, Lisbon. Quite the horrific experience for you, no doubt about that at all." He looked at Jane again. "Cho tells me there are no leads, is that true, Patrick? No insights from you?"

Jane shook his head. For once, he could respond honestly. "Not at this time, no."

"Well, that's disappointing. You believe it's Red John, still?"

"I do."

"But you really have no basis for that, do you?"

"The face drawn on my wrist," Lisbon interjected. "Had to be him."

Jane was comforted that, despite her misgivings that Red John was not to blame for her imprisonment and torture, she'd still back up his supposition that he was in front of Bertram.

"Or just someone playing with you both and leading you to think that way," Bertram argued. He leaned back in his chair, assumed a further air of authority as he studied them both openly. While Jane reacted blankly to this silent interrogation Lisbon shifted in her seat under such scrutiny.

"The thing is, sir," Lisbon began again, "I'm ready to go back to work. I know you might think it's too soon-"

"Have you finished the withdrawal process? How was that? Quite tough, I imagine," he interrupted, absently moving some papers around his desk. He made it sound like completing exit paperwork from leaving a job and not the hell she'd been through the past few days.

"I wouldn't be here asking to go back to work if I hadn't," she responded, ignoring his second question. She remembered the exercises Jane had taught her and said confidently, after a large exhale, "I'm ready."

Bertram's attention went immediately to Jane. "And what do you think, Patrick? Is she ready to go back to work in your opinion? You're being very quiet on the subject. Makes for a change." There was the vague masking of a smile and knowing in his voice. He already knew Jane was not of the same view as Lisbon on the matter.

Lisbon turned her head towards Jane. He could sense her telling him silently to back her up as he reacted to Bertram. He responded smoothly, assuredly, "You tell me, Gale. You unable to make the decision for yourself or you really require an underling like myself make it for you?"

Amused creases appeared at the corner of Bertram's eyes before they settled back on Lisbon again. He leaned forward and mirrored Jane's pose, interweaving his fingers on his desk. He stared at her for a long second before he spoke in his most professional and cold manner. "Psych counselling would be mandatory."

She nodded quickly. "Yes, sir. I understand. Of course."

"And there will be a requirement for random drug testing for...say...the next six months. We can reassess at that time if a clean bill of health is achieved." He softened his tone to slow and condescending. "Naturally, Teresa, what happened to you was absolutely horrific as I've said and not of your making but...well, the die has been cast as they say. No way of putting the genie back in the bottle again, is there? And with defence attorneys being as they are, and to ensure any cases you're involved in can be prosecuted to their full extent we need to make sure your work is beyond reproach-"

"I understand," she broke in. "Whatever is required. I just want to go back to work."

"Also, I can't allow you in the field. Not until I have a report from the psychiatrist appointed that states you are fit for active duty."

His approach wavered from strict headmaster to convivial uncle as he'd talked.

"But desk duty...let's try that, shall we? If you believe being back at work will help you recover further then I want to do everything in my power to facilitate that."

* * *

As they got back to their respective vehicles Lisbon noticed Jane had barely spoken since their meeting with Bertram. She leaned against her vehicle as he opened the door to his. "You still think Bertram is involved with Red John? Did you get a read off him?"

He shoved his hands into his jacket pockets. He sighed. "Nothing is certain in life, Lisbon."

She replied to the despondency in his tone, "That's not what this silence is about, is it? You were hoping he'd turn down my request, weren't you?"

"You know how I feel about this."

"Yet you helped me get through that meeting just now. Those breathing exercises helped. So, that's what you were setting out to achieve, was it? You helped me because you thought it wouldn't matter – that Bertram would nix the idea as soon as I proposed it anyway, didn't you?"

"You going back right now is a mistake," he said without contradiction on her perception of his motives, staring her down.

"Bertram doesn't think so," she countered with a tilt of her chin.

"Hm. No. It appears not," he muttered.

"What are you saying, Jane? Why would he want me back at work if not because he believes in my capability? Have to say, sounds like he has more faith in me than you do at the minute."

He got in his car, ignored both her question and her statement. "You okay driving to the CBI yourself?"

"I drove here, didn't I?" she responded sharply.

Calmly, "I'll see you at the office, then, Lisbon."

With that, he closed the door and waved to her as he began to drive off. Lisbon watched for a few seconds, confused, before she did the same.

* * *

A wall of photographs was the first thing that hit her upon her arrival in the bullpen. Her footsteps halted immediately and her mouth hung open. It wasn't unusual for crime scene photographs to be on display – they were often used to help with theorising and fact checking during an open investigation.

But these stills were of her. Bare arms. Legs. Needle punctured. Bloody. Bruised. Dirty.

She recognised herself immediately although there were none that showed all of her face or her body. The images shown had been wheedled down to close-ups instead.

Most likely, she figured, the team wanted to protect her embarrassment from gawkers from other departments passing by and also, most probably and perhaps even more likely because they couldn't stand to see her as that wretched figure day in day out either.

She had been unconscious when they had been taken. And there had been no mirrors in the white room. It only just struck her that she hadn't seen what Jane and the rest of the team had seen when they arrived at the hospital. She had been cleaned up by the time she woke. She advanced closer to the board slowly, finally sparking interest from Van Pelt who had been so busy working behind her computer screen she hadn't noticed her boss standing on the periphery.

"Boss!" she exclaimed, getting to her feet and drawing the attention of Rigsby at his desk opposite. "You're...how are you? What are you doing here?"

Rigsby followed Lisbon's gaze to the board and quickly stood in front of it to block her view. "Boss, what...you should be resting," he said gently. "We got this."

She looked around him at the photographs again. "Where are the rest?" she said, turning quickly to Van Pelt.

The redhead shook her head. "The rest...?"

Lisbon cleared her throat. Louder, "My file, Van Pelt. I presume you have one on me by now. I want to see it. All of it."

"Uh..."

"Now, Van Pelt," she ordered. "I'll be in my office. Where's Cho?"

"Budget meeting. He should be back soon," Rigsby offered.

"Fine. Send him in when he gets back. Now get back to work."

When she entered her office she closed the door with her back and took a deep breath. Her hands were shaking and so were her legs. Sweat littered her brow suddenly. "Christ," she said to herself quietly, attempting a purposeful stride across to her desk. She tried her best to not make it appear like she practically fell into her chair. The act of normalcy as their boss in front of her team had taken its toll on her physically. This was going to be so much harder than she thought.

She stared blankly ahead and felt like she was in a dream world of sorts. She was back at work but the world around her was not the one she had left. Everything seemed foreign to her – her keyboard, computer screen, stapler. Nothing looked the same.

Her eyes travelled to the photographs of long lost family pets, the baseball she'd caught once. She attempted to use them to ground her to the present and to her past self in this room. To make her feel connected to the life she had before she'd been abducted. She wanted more than anything to feel normal again, to feel like she wasn't the woman she felt inside now, crumbling and torn apart on the inside. Fractured. Failing.

She thought by going back to work it'd make her feel anchored again. Stronger. That being in the comfort of the place she considered home more than she ever did her condo would repair her somehow, salve the pain. But still, she felt untethered as hard as she tried for it not to be so, as if she was in some kind of alternative universe of the one she belonged to for so long. Objects and people were almost carbon copies but just off centre enough to make them seem unreal and strange.

Then she knew what was wrong. Why she still felt like a misfit even in this environment.

It wasn't the world around her that had changed. She had. Irreparably.

* * *

 _ **Sacramento.**_

 _ **Present Day.**_

"So, what's your plan?" Jane asked as he drove them to the CBI.

"Plan?" Lisbon repeated. "I thought you were the one who came up with those."

"Can do but I suspect you have one already in motion."

She shrugged as she looked out the window to her side. "You made me leave my gun at your apartment so whatever plan I had in mind is ruined, isn't it?"

"You wouldn't have got through Security with it anyhow and you know that."

"Mm," she mumbled in agreement.

"Still a little mad at me, then," he proposed with a sigh.

Silence greeted him in return for a second. Then she replied, "I'm not mad at you, Jane. I'm just...this is gonna be hard for me, okay?"

* * *

Cho was there to greet them when they arrived in the bullpen. Wasting no time on preliminaries he said to Lisbon, "Good work tracking down Medina."

"Thanks," she said. "Is he here yet?"

"Rigsby and Van Pelt took him to Interrogation 2."

"Does he know why he's been brought in?" asked Jane.

"No. They told him it was about parking tickets when they picked him up."

"He surely wouldn't have believed that," Lisbon stated.

"He didn't but he came quietly, all the same."

"Hm. Interesting," Jane muttered. "Have they questioned him yet?"

Cho shook his head. "Waiting for you to arrive."

"Did he request a lawyer?"

"Nope."

"Even more interesting."

"Yeah." Cho looked at Lisbon again, a trace of concern in his normally stoic expression. "You ready to make this ID?"

She nodded quickly. "Of course. It's why I'm here."

"I'll make sure we get him to roll over, boss."

"I know you will," she said with a trace of a smile.

"Let's get to it, then," Jane cut in.

"I just need a minute," Lisbon said to both men, displaying embarrassment that she was more affected by Medina's presence in the CBI than she should have. "Just need to use the restroom first."

"Take your time," Cho nodded, walking away.

"I'm okay," she said gently to Jane before he spoke. "Just need to prepare myself. Don't want to fall apart in front of Cho in there. Or you."

His voice was like silk in response, soft and caring. "All right. I'll see you in there."

* * *

Eloise Hudson was waiting in the observation room when they filed in. Cho walked in first, followed by Jane. A few minutes later Lisbon opened the door and came inside. Hudson had her arms folded over a beige cashmere sweater she wore and played with a set of pearls distractedly as she nodded to her before focusing quickly on the man on the other side of the mirror again. Jane and Cho had taken up positions alongside, staring at Medina too. Cho's expression was as inscrutable as ever, Jane's cold and searing. In the other room, Rigsby stood behind Medina as Van Pelt sat opposite him.

"Lisbon," Hudson said quietly, drawing her into the room with a nod towards the glass, "appreciate your help on this. If you wouldn't mind...?"

Lisbon took a deep breath and faced the glass fully, aware of three sets of eyes on her as she looked through it. She took in his appearance silently. It was him. She knew it instantly. Dark brown hair cut short but a little longer than the buzz cut she remembered. Over six feet tall and broad, his upper body was muscled and filled out the black T-shirt he wore, straining over his biceps. His eyes were dark brown as he stared ahead, his hands handcuffed in front of him.

Van Pelt was asking him to confirm his identity but Medina merely stared ahead and said nothing.

"Lisbon?" Hudson said in a whisper. "Is it him? Is he one of them?"

Lisbon looked into his eyes through the mirror without replying.

"Yes," Jane answered for her, his gaze following Lisbon's through the glass.

"Yes," Lisbon repeated quietly.

"Good," Hudson said. "Cho, Jane, whenever you're ready."

"You go ahead, Cho," Jane said.

Lisbon blinked and looked away from Medina for the first time since she'd entered the room. "You're not going to question him?" she asked Jane.

"Not yet. Let's see how the Iceman does first."

After Cho left Hudson said to Lisbon, "Well, thank you for your help, Lisbon-"

"Let her watch," Jane interjected before she asked Lisbon to leave. "You owe her that at least, El."

Hudson bristled marginally then pursed her lips. "I was thinking of Teresa, actually, Patrick. She may not want to be reminded-"

"I do," Lisbon cut in. "I want to see it."

Hudson sighed and shook her head at the pair of them. "Fine."

* * *

Cho and Van Pelt took up the questioning of Medina on the other side of the wall. Rigsby hovered in the background, his face set in a scowl. They normally interrogated in pairs but, bearing in mind what this man had perpetrated on Lisbon, he was taking no chances in leaving Van Pelt without whatever protection of his may be required if the situation took an unexpected turn.

Cho hadn't minded at all, although Van Pelt was more than capable of defending herself, another figure in the room to intimidate Medina so much the better as far as he was concerned.

"Mr. Medina," Van Pelt said, ignoring the fact he hadn't spoken even to confirm his name, "do you know why you're here?"

Resounding silence greeted her.

"You know it's not because of outstanding parking tickets, don't you?"

She looked to Cho when the man opposite made no movement to look her in the eye or answer her.

Cho opened a file in front of him and removed a photograph. The body of Jessica Wells as she was found on the stretcher in the white room stared up at them. He turned it so Medina could see it more clearly.

"This is why," Cho stated. He let the statement hang in the air for a second before he spoke again. "Her name is Jessica Wells. We found her. Dead. We found that torture room of yours."

Apart from a long blink, there was no response.

Cho continued, "You're going to prison, Medina. Felony murder. If you won't tell us who you work for then we'll hang it all on you. Is that what you want? We know this wasn't your idea. So, tell us whose idea it was. Maybe we can make a deal if you co-operate."

Medina, for the first time since he'd entered their custody, frowned slightly as he glanced at the photograph. "I have no idea who this woman is," he said, shaking his head.

* * *

Jane mirrored Medina's frown as he watched on.

"What is it?" asked Lisbon beside him. Her heart was hammering in her chest as she heard the voice of one of her captors for the first time. It was at odds to how he looked and had acted towards her. Soft and almost melodic in tone. A random thought occurred to her that he was probably a good singer. She hated him even more for that, that someone capable of inflicting pain without conscience should be given that gift. Rage bubbled inside her, growing with every passing second as she watched him.

"He doesn't know her," Jane said, peering into the glass with a deeper frown.

"Jane, that's him. I'm sure of it," Lisbon responded eagerly. She raised her voice. "The tattoo...even his eyes...I-I haven't made a mistake-"

"I never said you had," he said quickly, turning towards her. A second later he bounded out of the room.

He burst into the interrogation room a second later and picked up the photograph of Jessica Wells, shoving it in Medina's face. Medina was stunned by the sudden interruption and the wild look in Jane's eyes. He drew his head back. "Say that again," Jane said, bearing down on him. "Do you know this woman?"

Medina shook his head quickly, his eyes darting to his hands.

"Look at her!" Jane all but roared in his face.

"Jane," Rigsby said breathlessly, putting a hand on Jane's arm, afraid of where this was heading. The last thing they needed was Jane going off-book and so allowing Medina to walk.

Jane took a breath and pulled back slightly. "I'm fine, Wayne." Another deep breath he put the photograph on the table again and tapped it in front of Medina. Softly but with an underlying chilliness to his tone, "James, have you ever seen this woman before? This is important and I need the truth."

Medina looked at the photograph for a long moment. He looked up at Jane finally. "No, sir, I've never met her."

Jane nodded slowly and moved back from him a step. He looked into the mirror and shook his head. Lisbon spoke to Hudson on the other side. "He's telling the truth. Medina wasn't involved in Jessica's murder. He really doesn't know her."

The blonde woman furrowed her brow. "What? How is that even possible? You identified Medina-"

Lisbon's eyes flashed with determination and annoyance. "Yes. And I was right. He was involved in _my_ abduction. Just _not_ in Jessica's murder. Isn't that obvious now?" she barked.

Before Hudson had a chance to respond Cho had started to speak to Medina again. He was on the same page as Lisbon by his next question. "How about Teresa Lisbon? Does that name ring a bell?"

Jane was watching for his answer with barely concealed hostility. Medina, aware of the consultant's lack of forbearance, shifted his eyes from him. He spoke to Cho. "No. No, it doesn't."

"You're lying," Jane and Cho said in unison as they both read his reaction. The only difference was Jane's cadence which was low and threatening, like a caged tiger's growl.

"I'm not," he asserted. "Look, I don't know what this is about. I'm answering no further questions."

Jane assumed a persona of relaxed as quickly as his temper had flared earlier. Van Pelt and Rigsby locked eyes as he removed his jacket slowly and rolled his shirt sleeves up. Both knew Jane was by far more dangerous eerily calm than angry.

He leaned his backside on the table beside Medina. "Why haven't you asked what this is about?" he asked the dark haired man. "Anyone else would want to know. But you already know, don't you? You knew as soon as you were picked up this morning. Tell me, is the reason you haven't asked because you're ashamed of your actions? Hm?"

Medina clasped his hands together in his cuffs, refusing to meet his eyes.

He continued, "Because you are ashamed, aren't you? You've been in wars but not quite the same restraining someone who didn't ask to fight in one, is it? Punching her too? Watching her humiliation without raising a finger to help her?"

He took a small breath to control himself from lashing out again.

"Taking orders from that monster who injected her? The one you're still protecting now? Why, James? You'll feel better if you cleanse that conscience of yours. You couldn't participate anymore after that first one, could you? Even for a veteran in need of a paycheck, your hands were too bloody to see that done to another woman. That shows you have empathy somewhere in that dark soul of yours.

"And that's why you didn't recognise Jessica Wells. You weren't aware it's still happening. Or, more likely, you told yourself it wasn't happening still. Maybe telling yourself that is the only way you sleep at night. But those people you worked with are still carrying on with this a year later. The people you're protecting right now."

Medina's breathing had increased as he listened but then shook his head. "I-I told you I'm done talking."

"Why haven't you asked for a lawyer?" Cho asked.

"He's afraid," Van Pelt replied.

Jane smiled though there was nothing but darkness in his eyes. "Bravo, Van Pelt. He is. Terrified of who's behind this. He'd rather face prison than give them up. He doesn't realise by doing that it tells us they have power, prestige perhaps, money. Tells us more than he thinks it does."

Medina narrowed his eyes at Jane then shook his head. "If I'm as afraid as you say I am then I'm better staying quiet. Charge me or release me in forty-eight hours." He relaxed back in his chair and looked at his hands.

Jane bit the inside of his cheek in frustration and stared back into the observations room. "We'll talk again later. Obviously, you need time to come to your senses." He whispered in Medina's ear, "Because you will, believe me. I'll make sure of it. This is personal for me so you have no idea of the shitstorm I'll rain down on you when we talk again. You'll be sorry you didn't give them up when I asked nicely."

Hudson sighed loudly in the other room. "He's a tough one to crack, isn't he? But Jane will get him next time. This must be his plan, to allow him time to think, to worry, mull it over. It can be very effective in breaking down-"

She never got to finish her sentence as Lisbon flew out of the room, her feet carrying her past the threshold before Hudson could stop her.

Jane, who had taken a couple of steps back from Medina, saw the door of the interrogation room swing back on its hinges sharply. Lisbon stopped to look at none of her former team members, all stunned momentarily, her gaze focused solely on the man in handcuffs.

She grabbed him by the cloth of his T-shirt and wrenched him out of the chair, her adrenaline and his surprise making it possible to drag him with her. With the momentum of her pounce, he was up against the wall of the interrogation room in seconds, his legs bending slightly under Lisbon's hold and diminishing the height difference. She pulled a handgun from the back of her jeans and shoved it into his forehead, her finger on the trigger. His hands lay useless in handcuffs between their bodies.

"Lisbon!" Cho exclaimed, getting to his feet. "Stand down."

"I can't do that, Cho," she said through gritted teeth, her green eyes staring into Medina's brown ones.

"You remember me now?" she said to him with a menacing smile. "Huh? Not quite as weak as when we last met, am I? It helps that I'm not drugged out my mind."

Frightened eyes stared back at her and she pressed the muzzle of the gun deeper into his skin, stretching it. "What? Cat still got your tongue? You never were much of a talker."

The sound of a gun unclipping its holster claimed Jane's attention. Cho was pointing one at Lisbon. "Lisbon, put the gun down," he said to her. "Don't make me do this."

Rigsby and Van Pelt watched on, speechless and open mouthed as Lisbon replied. "You're not going to shoot me, Cho. We both know it."

"Don't make it come to that. You need to step back. This isn't you."

She chuckled humourlessly. "Oh, you have no idea of what this monster and his friends turned me into, Kimball."

"Lisbon," Jane said with barely a breath, taking a step forward. "I'll get him to confess. I'll get you your answers. Trust me to do that and put the gun down."

She shook her head and sniffed loudly. "This is faster. You shouldn't have brought me back here, Jane. It was a mistake. But if I can take one of these bastards out then it might just be worth it."

"And then what? Huh? Then what? Prison? He's not worth it. None of them are worth that!"

"I've been in prison for over a year already. How could the real thing be worse than anything I've suffered?"

Cho cocked his weapon and Jane flinched. "Christ, Cho, put the damn gun down!" he yelled.

"Can't do that," Cho said. "I'm going to shoot you, Lisbon. Even if I don't know you anymore you know me. I'm not bluffing."

She focused on Medina again, ignoring her former second in command. She grasped at his T-shirt tighter again until she felt his chest hairs underneath it in her vice like grip. She was hurting him and it was the best feeling she had in quite a while. It almost reminded her of her first hit of heroin and the high she felt then. Tears gathered in her eyes at the exquisite pleasure she felt in this moment and her voice rattled as she spoke. "Who were you working for? Who?!"

Jane took another step until he stood between Cho and Lisbon. "Damn it, Jane!" He swore. "Move out of the way."

"Not happening," Jane said calmly as he faced Lisbon and Medina, his body covering any chance of Cho getting a clean shot. "And she was right. If you were really going to shoot her you'd have done it by now."

Lisbon assessed the situation out of the corner of her eye and exhaled. She hadn't been as assured as Jane was that Cho wouldn't have wounded her, at least. "Now, who are you working for? I'll get a shot through your skull before they can drag me off you, you bastard."

"I-" he shook his head.

"You shouldn't worry about whoever you're protecting can do to you right now. You need to worry about what I _will_ do to you if you don't give me a _fucking_ name."

"I'd do as she says," Jane cut in. "She's going to kill you if you don't talk. Hell, she might even do it if you do, come to that."

Medina's eyes searched Jane's for help and found none.

Lisbon growled, "You have ten seconds or so help me god I'm going to kill you. Ten...Nine...Eight..."

"Please!" Medina gasped.

She grasped the gun tighter, pressed it into his forehead again, cocked the trigger. "Please? Really? How many times did I say that to you when I was in that damn room, huh? Now, where were we...Seven...Six..."

"Teresa," Jane warned, his voice a pained whisper. "Don't."

"Okay!" Medina shouted. "Okay! Just...just put the gun down first."

"Not a chance," she replied immediately. "The name first."

He took a shallow breath. "I-I don't know the name of the man who injected you. We used codenames. He insisted on it. His was..." He swallowed, "his was...The General."

Lisbon blinked. "The General? Is this some kind of a joke? I swear if you're playing me for some kind of fool-"

"He's not," Jane said, cutting in. "It's all he knows him as, Lisbon." He took a step closer and frowned at Medina. "But you know someone else's name, don't you?"

Medina nodded slightly, the gun at his head restricting his movements. "Yes. But only because...because I recognised him later. I didn't know who he was at the time. He just...he just came and went sometimes, always stayed in the room with the cameras, he wasn't there all the time. But...but I think he was the one in charge. At least, The General and he seemed close."

"Who was he?" Jane asked.

Medina's eyes went from Jane's to Lisbon's. "He'll have me killed...or my family...despite where he is now...I need...I need a deal."

"His name," Lisbon ordered. "Or you won't have to worry about him killing you or your family because you'll be dead already."

Medina closed his eyes. He said in a whisper, "Volker. Tommy Volker."

* * *

 **A/N: Before you all think I have lost my mind and forgotten my plot I assure you I haven't. This is all part of the plan. And Lisbon's bout of craziness is part of it too.  
**

 **And just to also confirm that this Medina is no relation to the John Medina from _Bloodshot_ , he just has the same surname. Sorry for any confusion, I hadn't realised I'd selected a similar name until someone mentioned it to me.  
**

 **Thanks for reading.**


	19. Chapter 19

**A/N: Have quite a lot on my plate at the moment so apologies for the infrequent updates. To be honest, if this one hadn't almost been finished from last week it probably wouldn't have made it here so quickly. It's quite long so hope that makes up for it. Hope you enjoy it. Thank you for reading.**

* * *

Chapter 19 – Putting out Fires

 _ **Sacramento.**_

 _ **Around twelve months earlier.**_

Jane arrived in the bullpen to Rigsby and Van Pelt talking in hushed tones in the centre of it. He glanced towards Lisbon's office, Cho sitting in the chair opposite her as they went over paperwork together. A normal everyday scene he'd longed to see while she'd been away. Except, nothing was normal anymore and her being back at work already was a recipe for disaster in the making.

"Jane?" Van Pelt asked, "has Bertram really agreed for Lisbon to come back to work?"

"Yep," he stated abruptly, throwing his jacket onto the arm of the couch haphazardly and plopping himself down on its cushion. He nodded to the office. "How was she when she arrived?"

His colleagues looked at each other and shrugged.

"Thanks, you're both a great help," he said pithily.

He threw his legs over the remaining cushions and closed his eyes.

"What do we do?" Van Pelt asked.

"What she asks you to do. Your jobs, of course," he mumbled, yawning.

"But how do we _act_ around her?" she pushed.

He opened his eyes again and rolled them theatrically. "Normal, Van Pelt," he snapped. "Think you can handle that?"

He rose from the comfort of leather and went to the break room to make some tea, his nerves dangling on edge.

* * *

He was pouring the boiling water into his teacup when Cho arrived a few minutes later. "What did you say to Van Pelt?" he asked, grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge.

"I may have been a little short with her," Jane said. "I'll apologise," he sighed.

Cho drank from his bottle and eyed Jane keenly. "You look like hell."

Jane looked up from his tea making ritual. "Thanks." He dipped the teabag again.

"Why has Bertram allowed her to come back?"

"Presumably because he thinks it'll help her deal with what happened, give her something to do than dwell on it."

"Bull."

Jane glanced at him and threw the tea bag into the garbage.

"We both know she shouldn't be here," Cho continued. "Bertram's no fool, either. And he wouldn't give a damn about helping her unless there's something in it for him."

Jane took a long sip of tea and rested the cup on the saucer in his other hand. He nodded. Quietly, "I suspect the last thing he wants is to help her adjust to this environment again."

Cho nodded. "He wants her to screw up."

"Yes."

"Why?"

Jane placed his cup and saucer on the counter beside him. "He's never exactly been a fan of hers. Been wanting to replace her for quite a while. He tried to with Haffner, after all."

"That didn't exactly go according to plan."

"No."

A glimmer of a smile passed between the two men before Jane continued. "But this could give him the perfect opportunity to oust her without having to fire her for no good reason, not while word of her abduction is still in the news, even if it's been relegated to column millimetres and not inches now. Or, even better, have her quit instead. Just a gentle nudge without having to play the bad guy. To look like a benevolent angel, not the devil he actually is. Clever."

Cho huffed in agreement. "Makes sense." He sensed more Jane was withholding. "What else? Why would he want her out so badly?"

For once Jane didn't make him work for it. Tiredness and the need to talk his theory out with someone he trusted (a practice he'd unwittingly become accustomed to with Lisbon - when the mood took him or she prodded him into submission) made him speak candidly to the other man.

"Many reasons, some I probably haven't even considered yet. But what I do know is that he knows she'll be no spy for him where I'm concerned. He knows she'll keep whatever I've told her about Red John or anything else from him if I ask her to."

He looked to his toes with some shame for a second. He didn't say the words but they were true, nonetheless. _He knows I can manipulate her, have her lie for me, anytime I want. I wouldn't even need to ask._

"So how do we stop it?" Cho asked.

Jane picked up his cup and saucer again. "I'm not entirely sure we can. But we can try...What were you talking to her about in there?"

"Budgets. Overtime."

Drily, "Sounds enthralling." He cleared his throat. "Keep doing that. Drown her in bureaucracy. Keep her away from suspects and interrogations. She's not nearly ready for those kinds of interactions. Not yet."

"She's the boss, what she says goes."

"Well, just keep her busy so she doesn't have time to say much, then," he replied with a tilt of his head.

"There's something else," Cho said as Jane went to pass him. "She asked Van Pelt to see her file."

Jane stopped in his tracks. "Has she given it to her?"

"Just as I was leaving the office."

* * *

Half an hour later Jane ducked his head in the door to her office. "Hey, how you getting on?"

Lisbon didn't lift her head and scribbled something on a form in front of her. "Fine. You need something?"

He took a step in, noticed the file where Cho had told him Van Pelt had left it. She hadn't read it yet, that much was obvious. Still building herself up to look at those photographs and the forensic report, he imagined. She was struggling enough at being back without that stress as it was, he determined quickly.

She glanced up at him. "Jane?"

He smiled at her, and despite his misgivings about her being in this office, he allowed himself a moment to pretend this was like any other day before where she was surrounded by paperwork. Before Vegas, even, and their estrangement since. They'd become closer again the past few days, a tiny speck of a bright side to what had she had gone through.

"I was wondering..." he started. He stopped the question from forming, suddenly realising he felt nervous. His stomach flipped in agreement as he stared at her. He was about to suggest dinner - making her dinner. He'd have done it without a second thought before her captivity and subsequent release. It would have been a little strange for them, perhaps, but not like this. At least, he wouldn't have been so affected by the thought of asking the question in the first place. It would have been a dinner between two friends, nothing more. He'd have been able to convince himself of that and act exactly like that's all it was.

But now...

Now, his mask wasn't covering his face as precisely as it used to. And that scared the hell out of him. But also made him want to do something reckless, too, his eyes straying to her lips before course correcting back to her eyes again. He had to get a better hold of himself, stop the chance of dangerous thoughts being entertained. Extract himself from her company.

She frowned, coloured under his scrutiny. "Wondering?"

"Ah...doesn't matter."

He nodded to the file instead. "You haven't read it yet, then."

She shook her head, a little off by his about turn in behaviour towards her. She gestured to the papers strewn over her desk. "No time yet. Cho's just delivered a tonne more that needs looking at."

He smiled his easy smile at her, the comfortable one between them. She was lying and they both knew it but he let it go. "Well, don't work too hard, Lisbon. And, as far as the file goes, I wouldn't rush it if I were you. The team has been more than thorough in running down leads."

"Yeah, I know," she sighed, glancing at it out of the corner of her eye like it was a python ready to strike if she looked at it head on, "and we have nothing to show for it," she added dispiritedly. "Must have been Red John, just like you said."

He was about to leave when she said, "I'll see you tomorrow, Jane. You should get some rest. You look like you need it."

"You insulting my good looks?" he retorted good-naturedly.

"Ah...what good looks?" she asked in bemusement, attempting to conceal a smile in return.

He beamed one back at her before it faltered. Quietly, "Hey, you going to be okay on your own tonight?"

"Of course," she answered immediately. "I'll be so tired after this lot I'll fall right asleep, I'm sure of it."

"Well, if you can't, call me, okay? Just to talk - if you need to, that is."

She nodded without speaking, her lips thinned by pent-up emotion.

As he made it outside he took a deep breath. Perhaps he had been wrong. Perhaps she was much stronger already than he had given her credit. Perhaps going back to work was exactly what she needed.

Perhaps she would be fine, after all.

But in his heart, he knew he was kidding himself. This was just the calm before the storm.

* * *

 _ **Sacramento.**_

 _ **Present Day.**_

She blinked as she continued to stare into Medina's eyes. Once. Twice. Her accompanying breaths came in short bursts and he blinked in return as she unwittingly blew hot air against his eyelids, her face so close to his, contorted in uncertainty at the mention of the name he'd uttered.

 _Volker._

Of course. Her doubt disappeared as soon as it had surfaced. A little voice in her head told her she had been right all along. She knew it hadn't been Red John. Volker's was the only name that had ever come to mind. A consummate voyeur, the camera – perfectly placed so he could watch her rapid descent on screen – would have been delicious and all so tempting for him.

She'd never said his name, though, too embroiled in doubt and self-recrimination after her release. In the end, she'd believed Jane. He'd made her believe.

 _Follow your instincts._ He had taught her that too.

If only she had. If only he could have seen past Red John. Those other women might have been saved...perhaps she might even have been saved herself.

"The gun, Teresa."

She heard Jane's voice at her side. Soft. Tender. Forgotten she was still holding it, she took a step back and let go of Medina, her knuckles scarlet with the force of her hold. She couldn't feel the pain in them, though she knew it was there, her brain too busy to comprehend it. He stumbled forward a little before righting himself, his gaze still locked on hers. She saw the fear again in him and warmth pooled in her belly that he was still scared of her.

She barely looked at Jane as she turned her head, just a quick glance. He was attempting to read her, to understand. She couldn't determine exactly what he'd figured out. But he was pissed, too. And, despite her best efforts to the contrary, so was she.

Cho was putting his gun away and she saw his hand shake slightly as he put it back in his holster. She couldn't look him in the eye at all. She'd frightened him and guilt washed over her that he'd had to see her like he had.

She turned all the way around until she faced Rigsby, looking at her like she was someone he never knew, a wild animal he was afraid to approach. She nodded and smiled lightly, hoping to placate his panic, turning the gun in her hand carefully and offering him the handle. "Sorry, Wayne," she said softly, vaguely surprised at the calmness in her voice. "I took the bullets out. It's not loaded."

He frowned, took the gun from her. He'd already noticed it was his backup weapon. "How...?"

"You really should have a different locker combination than Ben's birthday."

She finally met Cho's look of puzzlement. "I never intended to hurt him," she said simply.

Then Hudson was at the doorway. Sharply, she addressed Van Pelt, her shrillness making the team look towards the open door. She shot Lisbon a look of disgust. "Take her to another room. Now."

"Ma'am-" Van Pelt piped up, shaking her head.

"It's okay, Grace," Lisbon said to her gently, nodding.

Hudson stepped aside to allow her to pass with Van Pelt at her back. "Handcuff her and put a guard on her," Hudson ordered. She stared at Lisbon. "This isn't over. Don't think it is just because you used to work here."

Van Pelt gasped and looked to Jane for assistance. He looked at his shoes and bit his bottom lip instead.

"You heard her, Van Pelt," Cho said.

* * *

Fifteen minutes later the door opened to the interrogation room she had been placed in. Jane walked in and eyed the handcuffs she wore as she sat at the table. He pulled a chair over beside her and sat down, taking her hands in his and barely making eye contact. Neither of them spoke as he took out his lock pick set and undid them.

"You could have just asked Ron outside for the key," she said dispassionately, rubbing her wrists.

He sat back in his chair and stared at her for a long moment without responding to her statement.

She mirrored his position. "So, Volker?" she said eventually. "How do you suppose-"

"No-" he interrupted. "We don't talk about him until you explain your little stunt in there."

She wasn't surprised he'd realised her act with Medina was staged. She shrugged nonchalantly. "When did you figure it out?"

He was annoyed. "That you were merely acting like a crazy person and not being a crazy person, you mean?"

She nodded.

He exhaled loudly and got off the chair, began to pace around the room. "Oh, you had me going for a minute in there. Bravo, your acting really has improved. But you were a little too full on towards the end for the performance to ring true. A tad melodramatic. But you did well. Congratulations." There was no appreciation in his tone, just irritation.

"Thanks, I learned from the best," she said blithely.

He stopped pacing and looked straight at her, waiting for her to explain further.

"He wasn't going to talk, Jane. I knew it. I begged him in that room for days and he never said a damn word or lifted a finger to help me or give me answers. He was never going to give Volker up. Not just by questioning him like you were. You know better than anyone you have to think outside the box sometimes."

"You were already planning it before I even talked to him, Lisbon. You had decided what you were going to do before we even left my apartment or allowed me a good crack at him. All that silence in the car – it wasn't because you were upset with me, you were just trying to work out the logistics of where to obtain a weapon. You didn't care what my plan was to get him to talk, you were only interested in carrying out your own."

She bit the inside of her cheek and gathered her jacket around her with a half shrug of admittance.

He continued, "And don't talk like you were doing this solely as a method of gaining a confession. You were doing it because, most of all, you wanted to scare the hell out of him. Make him feel a little of what you felt. I'm not blaming you for that, believe me I get it-"

"So what if I was!" she exclaimed. "That's not why you're pissed, though," she told him, her voice louder now. "You're only pissed because I didn't tell you what I was planning to do!"

He swallowed a retort and nodded instead. "Partly the reason I'm pissed, yes. So, why didn't you?"

She looked at him with restrained pride. "To paraphrase what you told me once – if I could fool you then I could fool anyone."

He took a second to respond then smirked and shook his head. "Wow, you've been looking for some payback for that one for a long time, haven't you? Still a little sore about Vegas, huh?"

She blushed with anger and embarrassment but controlled her voice again. "I had to make it look realistic. If you looked scared of what I'd do to him even for an instant then the others would follow suit. It worked."

He took another deep breath and took a seat again. "That's twice you've lied to me today. Now, I'm getting the feeling that you're purposefully trying to piss me off. What have I done since we've met again for you not to trust me with this stuff? You know I'd have helped. We might have even concocted a plan that didn't end with you getting arrested."

She looked to the handcuffs sitting on the table. Worried, "Hudson is pressing charges?"

Defiantly with an arched eyebrow, "Maybe I should let her."

"But you won't, will you?" she replied with a quiet knowing in her voice.

"Of course I won't," he said with a long sigh as he ran a hand down his face.

"Thank you," she said softly. "How?"

He leaned forward, an elbow on the table. "Let me worry about that. But you need to start being honest with me, Lisbon. This...this pattern can't continue between us. Why not tell me?"

"I-I don't know, really. I'm just...just used to being on my own now. I'm not used to being part of a team anymore, Jane. And I really wasn't sure I could pull it off so I needed your initial shock to sell it."

His eyes bored into hers, trying to figure out if she was answering him truthfully or if there was more she was keeping inside. Perhaps even without realising it herself.

Frustrated he couldn't get a good read off her he asked another question. "It wasn't all an act in there, though, was it?" he asked softly. "Is that why you took the bullets out? Not just to back up your story that it was a ruse but because you were afraid of what you'd do to him if you left a live round in the gun?"

She pursed her lips in a thin line and looked to her lap. "Maybe. Maybe. I-I don't know."

"Maybe why you didn't feel comfortable taking up a consultant's position also, eh?"

His words were more statement than question. Lisbon was a straight shooter as a cop. If she knew it was likely she would cross lines when she returned then it was understandable she'd veer as far away from being attached to Law Enforcement as she could manage.

She didn't respond, her eyes set on the table in front of her in thoughtful concentration.

He nodded and rubbed her knee gently before leaning back again. "Okay."

"What's happening with Medina?" she asked a second later as the tension between them slowly dissipated and she focused more on the here and now again. "Does he want to prosecute me?"

"No. He just wants to forget he was ever a part of your kidnapping, I believe." He tagged on with a darker undercurrent, "Of course, it's easy to be remorseful when you've been caught out like he has.

"Anyway, Rigsby is taking a statement from him. Now that he's given us Volker's name he's decided to come clean about his part in all of it. He wants a deal, witness protection, the whole shebang so plenty of motivation to tell us all he knows. He's only given us a certain amount for now, but once the deal is signed he's promised to provide the rest. For example, like how you ended up at the Hospital, he hasn't told us about that yet."

"You believe he will?"

"I do."

"I'm surprised he's capitulating so easily."

"We can link him to what happened to you. We'd never get a conviction with that stunt you just pulled but I told him I'd stir up enough trouble in the process that Volker would discover he snitched on him even without it. That was enough of a scare tactic to get him talking again."

She smiled. A little. "Sneaky as ever, huh?"

"Still think the bastard deserves a baseball bat to the skull and not a cushy life in Idaho or somewhere equally as dull."

"I can live with him looking over his shoulder for the rest of his life if it gets us to Volker...and The General. What kind of a stupid ass name is that, anyway?"

"Someone with an overly inflated idea of their own importance, I suspect."

"Or an actual general. Or ex-general."

"Could be. Would fit the military-style planning. Medina is going to provide a photo fit of him so we'll see what pops in the system."

"How was Medina contacted? By this General person, I assume."

"Yes. Burner phone after their initial meet. He was recruited by him at what he said was a chance meeting at a gun show."

"You think it was?"

"Don't know, perhaps. Lots of ex-military types at those shows, I guess. Or people who just aren't afraid of using a weapon and ripe for something illegal if the pay is good."

"Medina's financial records? Could that link him to Volker or this other guy?"

Jane shook his head. "Paid in cash. No money trail."

"What about the other one, the smaller redhead?"

"Medina didn't know him, recruited separately, we assume. We're bringing in a sketch artist for his description too." He smiled. "Oh yeah...you'll like his codename...Sunburn."

Despite the situation, Lisbon snorted. "Sunburn?"

Jane chuckled. "The red hair...pale skin...sounds like it suits him if you ask me."

"And Volker? How...how is he orchestrating this from prison? And his connection to Jessica? The other women? I mean, me I get, obviously, but..."

"Van Pelt's working on finding out those answers. Might take some time."

She nodded then looked at her hands. "Volker," she repeated in a whisper, the name catching in her throat.

"Yes."

"I interviewed him," he added after a moment of reflection. "Just after you were taken."

"I know. I read the interview notes Rigsby provided."

He slumped forward and put his forearms on his thighs, caught her eyes. "I wasn't interested in talking to him, Lisbon. I barely even tried to read the man-"

"Jane-"

"No, I need to say it. My judgement was impaired. Red John. Red John. He was all I could think about. Maybe I could have stopped almost all of it if I'd considered him seriously at that time. You'd only just disappeared...you'd have barely been in the room...barely any heroin...if only-"

"Stop!" she said breathlessly. "Just stop, Jane." Her tone was harsh. "What's the point of what ifs now?"

"You blame me," he stated. "I can see it in your eyes. You blame me for not catching him then."

She looked away. "I don't mean to. I swear I don't. But-"

"It's okay."

"No, no it's not. I knew it wasn't Red John. I just knew it wasn't but I didn't stick around long enough to make you believe that either, did I? I thought about Volker but I was too messed up to pursue him anymore. _I_ let him win, Jane. _I_ let him defeat me. Not you."

"Battle's not over yet. It's barely even begun."

"He's already in prison. So, I can't get any kind of justice that way, can I? Which leaves what exactly?"

"Well..." He quirked an eyebrow.

"No," she snapped. "Not that. As tempted as I am...and god knows I'm tempted." Her hands balled into fists. She took a breath in and uncurled them slowly as she let it out.

He sighed, frustrated but slightly relieved her moral compass was just off centre, not malfunctioning completely. "Then we get him to admit to what he's done and to give up the others. We stop it happening now. We make his imprisonment unbearable. There are plenty of options short of killing him to still make him suffer. And we will. I promise you we will. Together. If you'll work with me, not in isolation."

"Sounds like the kind of speech I might have given you once."

"Hm. Well, let's hope you're more conducive to listening to it than I was at times. Have to admit, I'm enjoying this role reversal between us less and less. No wonder you had a stress ulcer all those years."

He got off the chair. "Okay, I'll go speak to Hudson, get you off the hook. Stay put, okay?" He glanced at the handcuffs. "Or should I cuff you again to make sure you don't move?"

His eyes sparkled and he muttered on his way out, "Wow, I've imagined you in handcuffs before but never quite under these circumstances."

Her cheeks reddened and she shook her head. "Don't worry, I'll stay here. Cho's got Ron watching me anyway." She breathed out. "How is he?"

"Cho? Meh, he'll get over it. He's used to me pulling stunts all the time."

"This is different. You've done that since the day he met you. He's never...he's never really seen me act like that before."

"He saw you with Carmen when you smashed your office window. He'll be fine once he cools down."

"Threatening a man with a gun who helped imprison and torture me is hardly the same thing as breaking a window. But I hope you're right," she nodded.

As he got to the door she leaned forward in her chair. "Jane, when you're talking to Hudson, tell her I need to see Volker-"

"Christ, one thing at a time, Lisbon," he said with an eye roll as he put his hand on the door handle before he stepped across the threshold.

* * *

Hudson was just hanging up the phone when Jane entered her office. He shot her a smile and bounded across to her desk.

"Don't even think about asking me to go easy on her," she barked before he spoke.

He feigned confusion. "What? Oh! You were fooled too then, were you?" he said confidently. "Excellent. I thought you were just playing along when you told Grace to remove her. She did a pretty good job in there, didn't she?"

"Do you think I'm an idiot, Patrick?"

Confused, "I never said you were, did I?" He added his most charming smile for effect.

She shook her head at him. "Don't tell me you knew it was a stunt. You were as shocked as the rest of them when she stormed in there."

He laughed. "You really think it was her idea? We planned it together, Eloise. Isn't that obvious now? If I was getting nowhere with Medina then I told her to come in and scare him with her Dirty Harry routine. Worked a treat. He was too afraid of telling us about Volker unless his life was threatened. And who better to do that than the woman he helped imprison."

"What's obvious to me is that you'll say anything to get that woman out of the trouble she's in!"

He sighed, motioned to the chair opposite her. "Do you mind?" He sat down and leaned forward. "Have you read her file from when she worked here?" he asked earnestly.

"Yes. I wanted to...familiarise myself with the team. Cho took so long to commandeer her office I needed to know who came before."

"Hm. Plus what happened to her was the talk of the place for months. You were curious, nosey."

She reddened slightly. "I suppose. What's your point?"

"Was there anything in her file to suggest her behaviour down there was her idea? On the other hand, I've worked for you for a while now. Out of the two of us – myself and Lisbon – who do you suppose could come up with that ruse? Hm? Who is it most likely to be?"

She thought for a long few seconds and he saw her wavering. "You were shocked, Patrick. As was Cho. As were the others."

Assuredly, "I _acted_ shocked. The others...well, you're right...we didn't let them in on the plan. Or you. Fewer people who knew then the more chance of pulling it off successfully."

"You really expect me to believe you?"

He shrugged. "Whether you believe me or not is up to you. But I've told you the truth." He looked deep into her eyes. "I promise you the plan was my idea, Eloise."

He added with a gentle smile. "So, you can't punish her for it. She merely did as I asked. Now, if you want to punish me...mandated leave, or whatever, well, that's up to you. But I'd suggest against that too. You need me here now more than ever."

He leaned back in his chair, crossed his legs assertively.

She laughed softly. "Wow, you'll really say anything to save her, won't you?" She picked up a pen and played with it as he sat opposite, his face a picture of calm assurance. She narrowed her eyes at him. "You know that there's talk around here about the pair of you."

He chuckled and raised an eyebrow. "There's talk about you and the AG too. You want to dissect those rumours too while we delve into my personal life?"

Her hands stopped moving on the pen and her mouth parted slightly. She recovered a second later, still under the stare of Jane's smirk. "What I'm asking you, Patrick," she said brusquely, "is if you're sure it's still the same woman now that you knew so well when you worked together before? People can change...and they don't all change for the better. Sometimes you can't save someone you care about just because you want it to be so."

He got off his chair. Icily, "What happened with Medina was my idea. So I need you to release her from whatever charges you've decided to concoct. Right now."

"And if I don't?"

"You really want an ultimatum? You want me to quit? You want the rest of the team to fall apart, turn against you? Because that's what you're facing if you insist on going down this path."

Confused, "You'd do that...all of you...over _her_?"

He placed his palms on the desk and bore down on her. "Do you really want to find out how far I'll go in order to save her, Eloise?"

He left the implicit threat hanging in the air between them as he left.

* * *

"What the hell did you say to Hudson?" Cho barked from his office door as Jane made it back to the bullpen.

"Jesus, what a day and it's not even lunchtime yet," he said to himself, stopping and turning around to his supervising agent with a smile.

Cho nodded for him to enter his office and closed the door behind them. "So?" he continued, standing in front of his desk with his hands gripped to it behind him.

"She was being incredibly annoying," Jane said petulantly, sitting down on the couch.

"She's the Director, she's allowed to be."

"Is she pressing charges?"

"Against Lisbon? No, she just told me to let her go but she wasn't happy about it. And she wants me to revoke her visitor's pass. She said you said the stunt of Lisbon's was your idea."

"It was."

"No. It wasn't. I know your stunts. That wasn't one of them. You just went along with it once you realised what she was doing."

"Meh. Point is it worked."

"What's going on with her?"

"Lisbon? Nothing. She's fine."

"Don't give me that bullshit again, Jane."

Jane sighed loudly and shrugged. "She's working through it, okay? That's all you need to know."

"Can I expect more of the same from her?"

"I thought you were revoking her visitor's pass."

"We both know Volker will want to see her. But for now, yeah, she needs to lie low, away from here and away from Hudson."

Jane bristled at the thought of them coming face to face but it was a meeting that was bound to happen as soon as Volker's name was mentioned.

"You're bringing him to the CBI?"

The other man nodded. "Just about to file a Removal Order to get him out of Folsom. Weekend coming up it'll probably be Monday before we get it."

"Home turf advantage, huh?" Jane mused with a dark smile.

Lisbon wouldn't be happy about the wait, he guessed, but it was out of their hands and she understood the sluggishness of the bureaucratic machine better than most. Selfishly he was pleased it meant her staying with him for another few days and would give them some time together away from the stresses of this case.

Cho answered, "Something like that. Hope is it'll intimidate him. By now, no doubt he's got guards from prison in his pocket. Coming here he'll be out of his comfort zone. So, you think she'll be able to handle it? Meeting him again?"

Jane shrugged. "Guess we'll find out, won't we?"


	20. Chapter 20

**A/N: Apologies for the delay, life has been crazy but I'm finally making some progress writing again and will have some other stuff coming your way sooner rather than later once again (for a while, anyway!).  
**

 **Thanks for everyone still reading this and especially those who are kind enough to leave a review. You've no idea how much they inspire me to keep doing this.**

* * *

Chapter 20 - Awkward

 ** _Sacramento._**

 ** _Around twelve months earlier._**

Lisbon stared at the manila folder out of the corner of her eye for the tenth time since she'd had Van Pelt place it there. Yawning as she watched the nightshift staff arrive in the bullpen and the lingerers from the dayshift leave, she filed the last month's budget reports. She'd already declined Van Pelt's dinner invitation and ordered Cho and Rigsby home. They'd loitered rather obviously for an hour after their shifts ended while she worked in her office. She needed them at their best and rested if they were going to close cases, especially as she was deskbound - for now. Looking at the statistics of the past few weeks was not encouraging and Bertram would allow them no more leeway if things didn't improve again soon.

An appointment had been made for her to visit a CBI psychiatrist the following day. She had no interest in talking through her ordeal once again but putting up with it was the only way to get back in the field. Maybe then she'd feel more like her old self, she reasoned, clutching at the last straw she had. She just hoped they wouldn't want to delve too far into her psyche and she could put on a good enough show to pass whatever test was required of her. She sure as hell wouldn't be drinking any coffee offered, though.

As she went to go back to her desk again her cream couch caught her eye, its soft cushions just crying out to be rested on. She sat down on it and leaned back, closing her eyes. Just for five minutes. Just to rest her eyes...

She couldn't see and her attempts at opening her eyes failed. She grunted, inwardly pulling at her eyelids for them to cooperate but only darkness filled her vision. A hand grabbed hers and she tried to scream but the sound caught in her throat. She couldn't pull away as it held on tight, another one grasping hold of her other hand, stronger again. She felt a needle pierce her skin. Then another. Then an avalanche of them up and down her arms, a hailstorm of icicles stabbing her again and again, drawing her deeper into the darkness.

Then another hand. Warmer. A voice just beyond her ability to hear whose it was. She tried to shout but she couldn't make a noise, her throat constricted with fear. Her name gradually came through the void. _Lisbon. Lisbon._

Slowly the voice became closer, clearer. It was Jane's telling her to wake up. His hand was on her cheek, his thumb stroking it gently, coaxing her to open her eyes.

"No," she mumbled. It was an illusion. She'd had this dream before. She was still in that room.

"Lisbon, I'm telling you to open your eyes. Now. Do that for me right now."

"Can't," she breathed, "and you're not real."

"Yes, you can," he told her, his tone demanding. "And I'm very real." She felt both his hands on her cheeks now, his thumbs drawing circles on them tenderly. "See? Now, come on, open those eyes. You fell asleep on the couch in your office. I need you to remember and wake up."

She drew back as his face suddenly appeared in her vision, his hands falling from her face. A gentle smiled graced his lips. "Okay?"

He was sitting on the edge of the couch as she lay on it. She blinked her eyes open wide and looked around, only the light from her desk lamp illuminating her office.

She nodded quickly, her heart still thundering against her ribcage. "What...what time is it? And what are you doing here?"

"Around three thirty. I was up in my perch. Couldn't sleep so came to make some tea. When I looked in you were thrashing around in here. Thought it best to wake you."

She noticed the scatter cushions were on the floor as he bent to pick them up. "Sorry," she said, shaking her head. He shifted over to allow her to drop her legs to the floor. She stared at her arms, running her fingers over them unconsciously.

"Nightmare again, huh?" he enquired quietly.

She sniffed. "To be expected, right?"

He nodded. "Absolutely."

She took a deep breath. "How long do you expect they'll last?"

He glanced at her, smiled wryly. "That your way of asking how long mine lasted?"

She shrugged. "I guess. I can't imagine you wouldn't have had them."

He nodded and looked ahead again with a sigh. "I'll let you know when they stop."

"Thanks, that's a great help. Very reassuring," she muttered with another shake of her head.

He patted her knee and got off the couch. "You want some tea?"

"Yeah...I'll...I'll come with you."

He stopped at the door, held back a reply. "Okay," he said a second later.

* * *

As they stood in the break room as he filled the kettle she said, "You knew I didn't want to be alone in my office while you made tea, didn't you?"

"Something like that," he said with his back to her, fetching clean cups from the drainer.

"Christ," she said with a long sigh. "When the hell am I going to feel normal again? Because I can't go on like this...all this...needing...people."

"You just need to give it some time."

"Yeah, so you've said," she tutted. "How long am I going to feel like this? Like some kind of dependent mess?"

He handed her a cup of tea. "Needing people around you right now is not something you should feel ashamed of, Lisbon. It's a perfectly-"

"If you say _normal_ once more, Jane, I swear..." She took a breath and then a sip of tea. "I just want it to be over."

"I know. But as we both know life doesn't always give you what you want. Or when you want it."

She exhaled and drank some tea. "Yeah...I know. Sorry."

"You don't need to apologise."

She drank some more tea. "I thought you were going back to your Motel tonight."

He shrugged noncommittally.

"So you're still babysitting me, huh?"

"I'm not going to be apologise for being concerned about you, Lisbon. Would you rather I wasn't?"

"No...no. I'm just...not used to it from you. Not lately, especially."

He raised an eyebrow. "I'll try not to be offended by that comment."

"Come on, let's face it, Jane. Before this happened to me you weren't exactly showering me with attention, were you?"

He looked into his teacup. "I was somewhat preoccupied. It's not the same as not caring about you, Lisbon." He looked at her again. "And besides, you'd hate it if I was like that. Then or now. As you've just intimated. The last thing you like is to be coddled over."

She mumbled under her breath, "Yeah, preoccupied, weren't you just."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Forget it," she sighed. "Doesn't matter."

"Obviously it does or you wouldn't have said it in the first place."

She looked him straight in the eye. "Fine. Okay, then. You were so preoccupied you forgot to tell me you slept with Red John's mistress while you were in Vegas."

His saucer landed on the counter with a loud thud. "For Christ sake, what the hell has that got to do with anything?"

"It's called honesty, Jane. Maybe you've heard of it?"

He rolled his eyes. "Just because I don't tell you everything doesn't mean I'm not being honest with you."

She marched up to him. "No, that's exactly what it means. Have you any idea what it felt like to be blindsided like that? You must have known she was going to tell me. Were you too ashamed to admit it, was that what it was? Or was it just that you didn't give a damn how I'd feel hearing that from her?"

He half shrugged. "I didn't see it as all that relevant. Whether I told you or she did. What does it matter?"

She threw her cup into the sink. "Suppose it doesn't to you. Thanks, I got my answer."

"To what? Lisbon-"

"Go to hell, Jane. It's quite clear where I stand with you."

Quickly, she went back into her office, grabbed the file from the edge of her desk and shoved it into her bag. As she was leaving Jane was approaching her. "Look, Lisbon, I don't want to impede the progress we've made lately. We're both feeling stressed, you especially haven't slept properly-"

She glowered at him. "Get out of my way, Jane. I'm going home. I can't stand to look at you right now."

"And you're overreacting to everything right now. You do know that, right?"

She shoved past him and headed for the elevator.

* * *

The following day he chanced a look in her office but didn't go in straight away. She looked worse than she had the day before and it was obvious she hadn't slept when she'd gone home. Why did she have to bring up the whole Lorelei fiasco again? Could she just not let it go? Why did that whole debacle have to be her focus in letting off steam? And maybe he'd been a tad harsh with his reply but he had his reasons for omitting certain truths from her and appearing obtuse to her questions the night before. In two minds as to what to do next he finally shook his head with a sigh and tapped on the door lightly before entering her office.

She looked up, dark rimmed bloodshot eyes giving him the onceover as she hung up the phone.

"Look," he began, "if you require an apology-"

"We're up," she interrupted. She passed a handwritten note over to him. "Case just in. Murder in Oakland. Looks gang related but Bertram's orders we check it out."

"Hm. A test to see if we can still cut it, huh?" he said, reading the address written down.

"Yeah, suspect so. So let's make sure we can." She got out of her chair to enter the bullpen and he touched her arm. "You know you can't go to the scene."

"Yeah, I do know that, Jane," she bristled, "I haven't lost every last one of my brain cells, not just yet. Just about to tell the team. If that meets with your approval, that is?"

He let go of her arm and sighed. "What time's your appointment with the shrink? The pressure of it hanging over your head is only adding to your testiness."

She let out a deep breath. "An hour's time." Shamefaced, "Any tips for me?"

"Yeah. Don't drink the coffee," he said, almost smiling. Then it faltered, "Sorry, bad joke, considering-"

"No. Well, yes, it was. But good to see you acting normal around me finally. Anything else?"

"Talk to them," he told her gently. "You might actually find it'll help."

She nodded quickly and moved to go round him. "Okay, thanks," she said with disinterest, passing the threshold of the door.

* * *

 _ **Sacramento.**_

 _ **Present Day.**_

Jane let himself into his apartment and threw his keys into a teal ceramic bowl beside the door. Lisbon was standing barefoot at the kitchen counter dressed in a white T shirt and sweat pants, her hair tied back in a ponytail as she ran a knife along one side of a large fish.

"Hey," she said, looking up.

He frowned as he approached. "Hey. You're filleting a salmon?"

She glanced at him under her lashes, her tongue stuck to her upper lip in concentration as she carefully wielded the knife. She stood back and placed the cut fillet on a board beside her. "Yeah. It's not so hard."

He peered at the fillet and nodded. "Nice job. Guess you've picked up some cooking skills living in Maine. With fish, especially."

She nodded. "Yeah, Mike taught me. I help in the kitchen sometimes at the Swan."

He smiled easily at her. "Well, I look forward to dinner."

"Hopefully it'll taste better than the eggs."

He laughed softly and glanced at the assorted array of vegetables behind her. "Anything I can do to help?"

She peeled the other fillet off easily and set it beside the first. "No, I'm good. Too many cooks and all that." As she threw the bones into the bin she asked him quietly, "How are things at the office since I left? Cho okay?"

He shrugged as she washed her hands at the sink. "He'll be fine."

She licked her lips. "And Hudson?"

"Don't worry about her either. It's settled. You wouldn't have been released earlier otherwise."

As she dried her hands on a cloth she nodded. "Thanks. Again. What did you have to do to get her to change her mind?"

"Oh, nothing too spectacular on this occasion."

"Just the usual threats and blackmail, then?" she said with a small smile.

He grinned.

"Medina?" she enquired.

"Still drawing up the agreement for him to talk. He's back to doing what mercenaries do best now he knows he has something of interest for us and that whatever arrangement he had with Volker is burned."

"Self preservation, huh?" she muttered as she picked up a fennel bulb and slammed it onto a chopping board.

She breathed out. Calmly, "Volker? Is he being told why he's being brought in for questioning?"

"No. Although if he was involved in Jessica Wells' murder it won't be entirely unexpected."

She nodded then stopped what she was doing and frowned at him. "If?"

He stammered, "Well...well, yes."

"You think Medina was lying?"

"No." Clearly uncomfortable he shifted on his toes.

"Jane?"

He looked up momentarily then shifted his gaze back to her. "Volker targeted you. I'm certain of that, we both are," he said, a darkness to his tone. "But we don't know for certain if he's involved in any of the other abductions."

"But..." A line appeared between her eyes as she thought. Then it vanished as her eyes popped open wide. She spoke slowly. "He-he hired this 'General' person for the purpose of torturing me. As did others for Jessica and the other women. That's your theory?"

"It's worth considering, isn't it?"

She nodded after a second. "Would explain the different ethnicities and backgrounds of the victims certainly. The lack of apparent connections."

"Van Pelt's looking into the Dark Web messageboards, see if she can track him down there while we wait to talk to Volker."

"But Medina said they knew each other."

"They still might. But he may also offer his...services...elsewhere, too."

"Oh, god," she sighed. "This might not stop with Volker. He might not be the mastermind behind this at all."

He shook his head. "No. But he is the one behind your kidnapping."

She bared her teeth. "Even if we get him to confess to that it's not enough, Jane. We have to catch all of them to make sure it stops. For good."

"And we will."

She nodded, hands shaking as she exhaled.

"You want to discuss Volker?" he asked her with concern.

She shook her head. "Not tonight. Need-need to get my head around it myself first. Thinking or talking about him right now...all it'll make me want to do is go to Folsom and put a bullet in the bastard."

Jane nodded thoughtfully. "Eloquently put."

She half shrugged. "That's why I decided to cook dinner, keep my mind busy until I calm down and can think more clearly. Maybe tomorrow."

"Okay, we're agreed then. No point worrying or thinking any further about this case until we know more, right? So, how about we have an evening where we try to put it to the backs of our minds? We'll only drive each other crazy if we theorise any more. And I'm...well, I don't know about you but I could use the break. Sound good? Possible?"

"Actually, that does sound good."

* * *

After showering and changing into a black sweater and blue jeans he walked back into the kitchen area. He sniffed the air. "Wow, smells delicious."

Lisbon's gaze lingered on him for a second before she sharply turned her head back to the stove. "It's just a lemon saffron sauce."

He chuckled. "Oh, is that all? You make a lot of those for your brothers growing up, did you?"

She smiled as he stood with his back to her, examining the sauce. "Point taken," she said, a new lightness to her voice.

"You like this. Cooking, I mean," he said, surprised.

She looked over her shoulder at him, his piercing gaze warming her cheeks. "It's relaxing. And it's something I can lose myself in."

"And be in control of. I get it."

She brushed past him to grab some herbs. "Growing up I was lucky to get vegetables into my brothers. Didn't matter what the food tasted like as long as they ate something. I'd no time to do any more than that. And then...being a cop for so long I had no time. Now..."

Her voice changed to something more melancholic. "Well, now I have nothing but time in Brentwood." She smiled at him again, forced cheeriness. "Have to fill it somehow, might as well do that by learning a few new skills at the same time that helps me pay my way."

As he poured water into a jug with a nod she gave him another onceover. "It's still so weird to see you out of your suit."

His eyes glinted mischievously. "Come on, it's not the first time you've seen me out of it."

She reddened just as a knock came to the door. "You expecting anyone?" she asked.

"Maybe Hudson changed her mind and she's sent the cops to arrest you."

"Haha."

When he opened the door an attractive woman in her mid thirties with short dark bobbed hair smiled at him. "Hey, Patrick," she said nervously, a book in her hands.

"Anne, hello," he replied with a smile.

She outstretched her hands. "Just wanted to return the book you loaned me."

He took the copy of The Count of The Monte Cristo from her. "You enjoy it again?"

"I did. Been a while since I'd read it."

The sound of a pot clanging caught her attention. "Oh, god, I'm so sorry," she whispered. "I didn't mean to interrupt you if you have plans."

"Not at all. Now, let me guess, you want to borrow Anna Karenina now?"

She drew her head back with a gentle laugh. "How on earth did you know that?"

He smiled and opened the door wider. "Because we talked about it the other week when we were in the Laundry Room and you're flying to Russia with the Symphony next month. Come in, I'll fetch my copy for you."

Lisbon turned to see the pale slight figure enter the door. The other woman was wearing a black cashmere turtleneck and pencil skirt that fell to her knees, a pair of matching one inch court shoes. She looked demurely at Lisbon with a shy smile. "I'm sorry, I-I didn't mean to disturb you both."

"No problem at all," Jane said effortlessly. He introduced them. "Anne, this is...uh...Teresa, she's...uh...she's an old friend from way back."

Lisbon wiped her hands on her sweatpants, suddenly feeling like a grease monkey against the elegant woman opposite. "Sorry," she apologised, "My hands are..."

"It's okay," Anne said with a charming smile. "You should see me when I cook. More sauce over me than on my plate."

"Anne lives just down the hall," Jane explained.

"I just came to return a book Patrick had loaned me."

"And to borrow one," Jane said. "Which reminds me, it's in my bedroom. I'll just grab it for you."

"Thanks...there's no rush," Anne responded.

"It's no problem." He looked between both women for a long second, "Just-just talk amongst yourselves," he said, walking away from the living area.

"Sorry I interrupted your...um...evening," Anne said when it was just the two of them.

"Oh, it's fine. It's nothing special."

"Sure smells that way."

"Thanks."

Lisbon lifted potatoes from the oven and began to crush them gently.

"So...you know Patrick well, then?" Anne asked, fiddling with her hands.

"You could say that," Lisbon said quietly. When she saw the other woman's nervousness she added, "We used to work together."

"Oh! So, so you're a cop?"

A beat passed. "Not anymore," she smiled. "Just visiting for a few days or so."

She caught some relief in the other woman's eyes and continued, "Jane...I mean Patrick and I...we're not...I mean...this isn't a date in case you thought it was. It's just dinner."

"Oh," Anne said, blushing as she smiled. "That obvious I like him, huh?"

Lisbon shrugged. "I was a detective for a long time."

Anne nodded slowly. "Nothing's happened between us, you know." She frowned, embarrassed. "And I have no idea why I just said that to you," she admitted. "I'm not good in these social situations."

"I know that feeling," Lisbon smiled. She bit her lip then released a breath. "Would you like to join us for dinner? Did I hear Jane say that you were with the Symphony? That sounds interesting, would love to hear more about it."

Anne shook her head. "Oh, I-I wouldn't want to interrupt."

"Believe me you're not. Please, join us."

Anne smiled warmly at her. "Okay, then. If you're sure."

"Okay to what?" Jane said loudly as he re-entered the room, hardback book in hand.

"Anne's joining us for dinner," Lisbon informed him.

The casual smile fell from his lips, his eyes questioning her.

"If it's okay with you, of course, Patrick," Anne said, noting some tension in the air.

His eyes remained locked on Lisbon's for a split second, agitation in them. When he turned to Anne his expression was calm and welcoming. "Of course, it is. It'd be lovely to have you join us, Anne."


	21. Chapter 21

Chapter 21 - Misguided

 _ **Sacramento.**_

 _ **Around twelve months earlier.**_

Dr. Irene Hamilton had large brown eyes and unruly silver hair tamed by a large decorative silver clasp at the back of her head. She was in her mid sixties, her dark African American skin unblemished by lines. She wore bright pink glossy lipstick and a mismatched red sweater and flowing purple skirt combo. Lisbon thought she looked like a rainbow had thrown up on her at first glance as she made her way into the psychiatrist's office. Her white teeth gleamed as she smiled at Lisbon as she entered and looked over the pink rimmed spectacles she wore.

"Agent Lisbon, a pleasure to meet you," she said, outstretching her hand as she got off the chair with a grunt, her weighty frame meeting Lisbon's slim one as they shook hands.

"Dr. Hamilton," the agent said with apprehension.

The other woman gave her a quick inspection. Warmly, "Irene, please. I think since we're going to be talking about stuff you obviously don't want to discuss then first names it should be. Work for you, Teresa?"

Lisbon, taken aback at the woman's forthrightness momentarily, nodded and stuttered. "Uh...yeah. Sure."

Cheerily, "Great, take a seat on the couch. It's what people expect when they come to a shrink's office. I was opposed to it when I started here a few months back but makes a nice place to have a nap between appointments."

Lisbon smiled. "You're not related to Patrick Jane, by any chance, are you?"

The other woman chuckled. "No. But I have had people in here who've certainly mentioned him. I'll have to get around to meeting him myself one of these days. Quite the troublemaker, am I right?"

"You could say that."

Dr. Hamilton bustled over and sat in a chair opposite the couch. "So, shall we get started?"

Lisbon's expression changed immediately. Actually enjoying the other woman's easygoing nature, she'd almost forgotten why she was there. "Yeah," she said quietly. "You have...you have questions for me or should I just tell you what happened to me first?"

Irene closed the file that she'd just opened on her lap. "I've heard and read what happened to you," she said sympathetically. "I'm surprised you're holding together as well as you are if I'm being honest."

Lisbon shrugged. "I'm okay, really. Just need to get back to work. Properly, I mean. I didn't die, and people go through much worse."

"Hmm. I suppose you've seen that. All through your life, eh?"

Lisbon fought back the desire to roll her eyes. Before she replied Irene smiled softly at her. "You hate talking about your childhood, huh?"

"Does anyone who comes here enjoy that?"

"Mostly, no. But it's necessary sometimes."

Lisbon breathed out and sunk back into the cushions. "So, this is going to take a while, is it?" she said with some petulance.

"It'll take however long you want it to take, Teresa."

Lisbon's eyes twinkled tiredly. "So, we're done, then?"

Irene smiled but responded, "Sure. If that's what you want."

Lisbon blinked. "Seriously? You'll just...you'll just sign me off that I can go back to field work if I ask?"

"If you believe you're ready then why wouldn't I?"

"But...but isn't it your job to make sure I'm ready?"

"It is. But I can only do that if you put in the work. And you don't want to put in the work. You want to soldier on, like you always do."

Lisbon licked her lips. "Is this some kind of reverse psychology angle you're playing?"

The other woman leaned forward. She sighed loudly, her voice soft and tender. "You think you being in the field right now is what's best for you? For your team? You're an intelligent woman, Teresa. That's obvious from both your demeanour and your file. So, is it?"

Lisbon trapped her lower lip between her teeth. Then she looked at the psychiatrist straight in the eye. "Yes."

The other woman raised an eyebrow and shook her head. "So, you're one of those stubborn ones, are you?"

The brunette shrugged and rested against the cushions of the couch, crossed her arms across her chest.

"Very well," Irene nodded with a disappointed smile. She got up and went to her desk, scribbled on a form that sat there. She picked up the piece of paper and handed it to Lisbon. "I guess we're done, then. Nice meeting you, Teresa."

Lisbon stared at the signature on the form. "You're agreeing to let me back in the field?" she clarified, astonished.

The psychiatrist sat down at her desk and put her glasses back on again as she opened another file. She didn't look at Lisbon as she spoke with disinterest. "No point me talking to myself until you're ready to talk back, Agent. You will, though, hopefully soon, I have faith in that. Good day."

Lisbon clutched the piece of paper as she walked out of the office, almost in a dreamlike state. "What the hell just happened?" she said to herself. She quickly waved away any thoughts of uneasiness she felt and removed her cell from her jacket, making a quick call. "Cho, I've been cleared for active duty, I'm on my way to you."

* * *

"She's what?" Jane snapped at Cho five minutes later.

"Coming here. Now."

They were standing outside a white one storey house deep in gang territory. Youths loitered opposite, keenly watching the comings and goings inside the property as forensics worked on removing evidence. A man's body, Ricky Moss, aged nineteen, had already been removed by the coroner for further inspection. Going by the number of bruises all over his head and body and the blood loss he'd suffered, the initial cause of death was called as blunt force trauma, probably caused by a bat of some type.

"Damn shrinks," Jane muttered. "Couldn't you have put her off?"

"She'd hung up before I got the chance."

Jane puffed out a long breath. As well as the bruising on the body, Moss was also a career drug user, scarring on his arms evidence of the tragic short life he'd led. Jane had been affected himself at seeing the telltale track lines so soon after seeing Lisbon's and had noticed the discomfort of Rigsby and Van Pelt too. Never had a search for evidence been so quiet. It was too close to home and too soon for all of them. He was more sure than ever of Bertram's motives in allowing Lisbon back to work by sending them to this particular crime scene. He also made a mental note to talk to whatever quack psychiatrist had allowed her back in the field so soon.

* * *

She arrived ten minutes later, her head down and dark hair billowing in the breeze as she walked purposefully towards the house wearing a bulletproof vest. She spied Cho outside and nodded to him. "Where are we?"

"You been apprised of the situation?"

An efficient nod, masking the quickening of her pulse. "Yeah. Any suspects?"

"Plenty in this neighbourhood," he shrugged.

"Gang connection, then?"

"No doubt, tattoos confirm. But Jane thinks this is more personal."

"Of course he does," she replied with a soft snort. "Where is he?"

"Inside."

* * *

"Hey," he said without inflection with his back to her as she met up with him in the victim's bedroom. "Heard you were coming back."

"Yeah. I know you're not happy about it but-"

"How'd you swing it?" he asked, turning round to face her.

"You mean because I'm still crazy, you mean?" she retaliated.

"I never said you were crazy, Lisbon. But coming here just might be."

She caught sight of a hypodermic syringe lying on the dresser, a discoloured spoon beside it and she instinctively flinched, blanching, breaking eye contact with Jane. His eyes followed her gaze until they looked at each other a long second later. He said nothing but raised a quizzical eyebrow.

"It was just...just a surprise seeing that, that's all," she defended, realising she'd spaced out for a few moments.

"Of course. Naturally, a surprise to find drug paraphernalia in a drug addict's house."

She swallowed thickly and licked her lips as she blushed. She cleared her throat. "Cho said you thought this murder was personal. How so?"

He pointed across the street from the large bedroom window. "See the man dressed in black with the blue baseball cap?"

She came to stand beside him. "The one with the long gold chain? Yeah, what about him?"

Just as he was about to respond the thunder of gunfire rang outside. Jane dived for cover beside the bed immediately, only realising a split second later that Lisbon was still standing in the middle of the room, stuck to the spot.

"Lisbon!" he yelled at the top of his lungs.

The sound of her name spurred her into action and she fell to her knees, the whizz of a bullet shattering the glass beside them and obliterating a mirror. He held his hand out and she crawled to safety beside him as he cowered behind the bed frame. Crouching together, her breathing was laboured as she withdrew her weapon from its holster. Her fingers quivered as she took hold of its handle with a wobbly grip. "Don't," Jane whispered, trying to catch her eyes. "Don't go out there. Lisbon, stay here, okay?"

She looked up at him, eyes wide and afraid, her upper body trembling. He shook his head. "Let the others take care of it," he said gently. "Stay here with me, okay? Just stay here," he told her softly.

She shook her head, her fingers shaking as she held her gun, tears pricking at her eyes. "They're my people, Jane," she said, sniffing, growing agitated as her hands wouldn't cooperate with her determined words.

"Damn it!" she snapped, taking a deep breath as the gun slid from her grasp. As she picked it back up Jane put his hands over hers, shaking his head again. She went to nudge him off but tears came instead, blurring her vision as the gun lay limply in her hand. "Listen," he whispered urgently, holding onto her tighter, nodding outside. "It's over now, anyway."

Just as he spoke, Cho burst into the bedroom, gun raised. Urgently, "You two okay?"

"We're fine," Jane said breathlessly, getting to his feet. Lisbon, blinking quickly into the distance, didn't meet either of the men's eyes.

"What happened?" Jane asked Cho as she stood up unsteadily to stand beside him.

"Gunfire from sniper on roof across the street."

"You get him?"

"Yeah. Local PD took him down. We don't think it's related to this case, more incidental because we're cops."

Jane nodded. "Yeah, I'd go along with that. One way to move up the ranks in a gang is to kill a cop, never mind a house full of them. Just as well you're all wearing vests in this neighbourhood."

"You're not," Cho remarked grimly.

Jane flashed a smile, ran his fingers over the cotton of his vest. "Course I am." He let go of a breath at Cho's stony return expression. Quietly, "Yeah, maybe I should have like you advised."

Cho nodded, looked at both of them again. "Rigsby and Van Pelt are helping local PD round up everyone that didn't scatter when the shooting began. I said we'd take them back to the CBI for questioning. Might get a lead on our killer. Okay with you, boss?" Cho asked, turning to Lisbon.

She was standing beside Jane and hadn't spoken since the agent had entered the bedroom, her eyes set staring into space.

"Boss?" Cho asked again, louder.

"Uh...yeah...yeah, Cho, bring them in," she said quietly.

As Jane and Cho traded concealed but concerned looks, Rigsby entered the room. "Boss, Jane, good, you're okay."

"You got everyone?" Cho asked.

"As far as we can tell."

"Did you pick up someone dressed in black, blue baseball cap, large gold chain?" Jane asked.

Rigsby furrowed his brow. "Uh, yeah, think so. Why?"

"Start with him. Have a hunch he's the killer."

"What makes you think that?"

Jane looked at Lisbon out of the corner of his eye, saw her chew on her bottom lip. She was only sporadically listening to the conversation going on around her.

"I'll explain when we get back to the office," he said to Rigsby, shot Cho a pointed look as he glanced sidelong at Lisbon again.

"Yeah, let's move," Cho said with authority. "Let the local cops clean up."

* * *

 _ **Sacramento.**_

 _ **Present Day.**_

Dinner was spent making small talk, Lisbon and Anne discussing music avidly for much of it. Jane observed more than participated, watching as Lisbon took to her role as gracious hostess easily. He'd never saw her in her undercover days but her acting was convincing enough to put Anne at ease even if he could see through it. She seemed to have a genuine like for the other woman, a fact that wouldn't have irked him had it not been for her motivation in convening this impromptu dinner party. When Anne mentioned a Recital she wanted to go to and Lisbon eagerly suggested that Jane should accompany her he almost rolled his eyes at her lack of subtlety.

"Well, you know how the job is," he'd reminded Lisbon with a fake smile. "Wouldn't want to commit to something I might have to cancel last minute."

"I'll clean these up," Jane said a painful hour later, his irritation with her increasingly hard to hide.

"I should go, anyway," Anne said, blessedly unaware of the simmering tension brewing.

"I'll do that, Jane. You see Anne out. It was lovely meeting you, Anne," Lisbon offered.

A genuine smile crept across Jane's lips as Anne embraced Lisbon warmly. "Lovely to meet you too, Teresa. Hope we can see each other again before you leave."

"Hopefully," Lisbon stated, backing away awkwardly.

As Anne was at the door she looked up at Jane with a trace of a seductive yet shy smile, the wine at dinner making her more daring than she might have been otherwise. She kissed his cheek softly. "Thanks for a lovely evening, too, Patrick. Maybe...well, maybe we can do it again?" She whispered in his ear, "Maybe just the two of us?"

He nodded glibly, caught offguard and more discomfited than ever as Lisbon dropped a pan behind them. "Um...yeah...yeah, maybe. We'll see, eh?"

Her cheeks blazed at the blatant brush off. "Of course," she murmured.

"Ah, your book," he smiled, putting distance between them to fetch it. As he handed it to her he said with a tilt of his head and a smile as he looked down the corridor. "Make sure you get home safe, now."

She laughed on cue though still ill at ease. "Haha, yeah, will do. Thanks again, goodnight."

He closed the door behind her then closed his eyes with a slow shake of his head.

A second later he swung around and gaped at Lisbon. "What the hell was that?" he exclaimed, finally able to say what he'd wanted to all night.

Lisbon pretended not to notice his sharp tone as she picked up a plate and put it in the dishwasher. "What do you mean? She's nice and she was hungry and we had plenty of food," she said evenly.

He marched over to her and slammed the dishwasher door shut. Lisbon stood with a plate in her hands and he took it from her, threw it into the sink. "What the hell, Jane?!"

"You can drop your act now, Lisbon, the audience has left."

She crossed her arms across her chest. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

He snorted. "No?! You need me to fill you in? Okay, then, if you insist. You engineered that little dinner to set me up with that woman."

"I-"

"Don't try and deny it. God, it was so obvious I felt like I was at a meat market auction."

She blushed and shrugged her shoulders. "She was interested in you-"

"You think I didn't know that already?" he asked incredulously. "Sorry, have we met? And, I've lived beside her for months. Do I really have to remind you what I do for a living or who I am? Never mind how embarrassing that was for her, the poor woman."

She blinked uneasily under his stare. "I just thought that...well, she's nice, Jane. And you and she have a lot in common. I was just trying to..."

"What?" he asked, taking a step back. "Make sure I knew where things stood with you? Push me onto someone, hope they spark my interest? Just to be on the safe side to make sure we're not tempted to cross any boundaries you've set? Go to any extreme to make sure we don't spend too much time together alone? Is the thought of that so frightening to you?"

"I wasn't...this had nothing to do with us or our history. You said you wanted to move on from Red John and dating...well, it's part of that, Jane. And I met her and she was nice and sweet and she likes you so...so, yeah, I tried to set you up. I didn't mean it to come across as obvious. I was just trying to help you do what you said you wanted to do when I first came back here."

"I never said I wanted you to find a woman for me, Lisbon. If I wanted one I'm perfectly capable of finding one for myself. Tell me, is your life so dreary you've resorted to matchmaking to pass the time in addition to cooking nowadays?"

"You're being unfair. I was trying to do a nice thing for you. Make up for how I behaved earlier."

"Even if I believed that to be true - which I don't - next time, a simple and sincere apology is all I require," he grumbled, "not a set up."

"Fine," she barked. She moved past him to resume collecting dishes from the dining table.

"Fine." He opened the door of the dishwasher again.

Silently they stacked it.

"Why aren't you interested in her?" she asked quietly a tense minute later after they finished and switched it on.

"Christ," he muttered under his breath, shooting her a glare as he put the kettle on.

Firmly, "Don't get mad, just tell me. Tell me what's wrong with her."

"Why? So, you can try again with someone you meet at the store, maybe? Scour single bars and bring me their finest selection? Audition me for The Bachelor?"

"Jeez, Jane. I got the message loud and clear. No more set ups. I got it." She softened her tone. "I just think you should be getting on with your life now that Red John isn't in it anymore."

He looked at her pointedly. Softly, "I'm not disagreeing with you on that."

Colour ran to her cheeks. A beat passed in silence. Then, evenly, "We were talking about Anne."

He shook his head and ran his tongue over his upper lip as he sighed. "You want to play this game? All right, then." He sucked in a breath then released it slowly, his hands gripped to the counter top and his face looking up to the Heavens. He turned slowly, relaxed his posture.

"Nothing. There is absolutely nothing wrong with her. She's..."

He shook his head in silent contemplation before he continued. Softly, "She's absolutely perfect for me."

Lisbon's face fell a little despite her best efforts otherwise. "So...so what's the problem?" she said, a tremor in her voice she couldn't control. "Why don't you want to ask her out, then?" she whispered. "In fact, why haven't you if you know that already?"

He smiled gently and looked to his feet. A long second later he locked eyes with her again. "I hadn't finished. On paper. On paper, she's perfect for me. She's beautiful, kind, compassionate, intelligent, funny - especially when she doesn't realise she is. Awkward in a sweet way. We share a lot of interests." His eyes never left hers. "Perfect, right?"

Lisbon swallowed thickly then raised her chin defiantly for him to continue.

Conversationally, "I've thought about it, asking her out. Contemplated it when I've been sitting here alone night after night. Hearing doors open and close all around me on a Saturday night, parties, noise from the street, people having real lives as I've sat on my balcony at midnight.

"And she's just down the hall. Wouldn't take much effort to start things between us. Bottle of wine. Dinner. She's very pleasant company - warm, inviting. I've thought about it. Losing myself in her. Just letting go of everything else and losing myself in her. A fresh start. A new chapter. I could make it work. For her, anyway. Me? Well, I'd still be me but I could lock all the doors in my memory palace and start again if I really wanted to. Make it appear like I was normal, well adjusted. Would be like putting on a new suit, another facade. I could go through the motions day in, day out. It would be comfortable and easy and I doubt there'd ever be a cross word said between us. We'd talk about art, literature, visit museums. We'd travel and see the world together when she played abroad. I've thought about all of that, Teresa."

Lisbon's mouth was hanging open by the time he'd finished.

He took a step forward and she backed towards the counter reflexively as she saw something in his expression change, a new depth to the darkness in his eyes, something she feared.

He spoke softly as he looked into her soul. "Now, do you really want me to spell out why I haven't acted on any of it? Why I'm not interested in her or any other woman you might dream up romantically for me in any way? Do I really need to go on?"

She shook her head. She began to panic. "Jane..."

He stood opposite her. His voice was thick with restraint. "You want more of the honesty you've always said you wanted from me? Are you ready to hear it?"

As her breathing quickened and alarm evident in her demeanour he took a step back. "No, you're not. Not yet, anyway. So, quit playing these games with me, Lisbon. Please."

She breathed out, her heart hammering at how he had just looked at her, desperate and hot and intense. Her insides fluttered as heat pooled in her, her body reacting slickly and intuitively to him.

He read her easily and smiled wolfishly for a moment, knowing he was understood and had affected her.

He took another step back, relaxed his face into calm. "Tea?" he asked her politely.

"Uh...okay," she found herself saying absently as her eyes lay focused on his lips and a renewed hunger in her belly.


	22. Chapter 22

**A/N: No present timeline in this chapter but it will be back in the next one. I'm struggling writing anything currently so I'm just pleased I could bring you something. And I'm still getting around to replying to some later reviews for the** **last** **chapter but I will as soon as I can. Thank you for continuing to read.**

* * *

Chapter 22 – Losing Control

 _ **Sacramento.**_

 _ **Around twelve months earlier.**_

The fact she allowed him to steer her towards the SUV and take the driver's seat without an argument gave Jane no satisfaction. He'd have liked nothing more than a spirited debate right now on his driving abilities. She sat beside him instead, knuckle in her mouth and her sight towards nothing as she looked out her window as the road swerved from house to house then flickered faster from road to road.

Ten minutes later the silence was deafening as he steered them onto the freeway. He started off easy. "So, you were asking me how I knew that guy was the killer."

A blink was the only acknowledgement he'd spoken.

He carried on, his tone relaxed and belying the pit of worry in his gut. "The chain he wears. It has the same type of medallion on it as the victim. They're related - though not happily. No Christmas parties or Thanksgivings together-"

"You don't want to talk about the murder," she interrupted, her tone clipped and full of regret.

He changed lanes in silence. "See," he explained, "if they'd been close then he'd have come to the scene, or, at the least, sent someone over to check what had happened-"

"You can say it, Jane," she interjected again. "I screwed up."

For the first time since they'd left Moss' house, she looked at him as her head swung sharply away from the window. "Say it," she repeated, the words spitting out of her mouth.

He gripped the steering wheel tighter and kept his gaze ahead though he could feel her eyes burning into his right cheek. "You screwed up," he admitted quietly, "although the fault isn't all your own making. Your shrink has a part in it. A greater part, if you ask me."

She expelled air from her lungs noisily and looked out the window to her side again. "She didn't want me to go back into the field. She was...I think she believed I wouldn't. That I would put my team before my own selfishness when it came down to it." She grunted, "I should have." Quietly, "I would have a few weeks back. So, what does that say about me now, huh?"

"Says you're desperate to find something where the earth doesn't feel like sand beneath your feet. Says you're desperate to find a solid footing."

She blinked watery eyes. "Someone could have died today and it would have been my fault. _You_ could have died today. But when I heard that gunfire...I-I couldn't do what I've been trained to do, I couldn't protect you."

He sighed. "Someone can always die, Lisbon, whether you're operating at full capacity or not." A beat passed in contemplative silence before he lightened his tone again. "And the man doing the shooting surely should take half the blame if you're dead set on taking the other half."

"This is no time for jokes, Jane."

"Look, there's no harm done. I'm here, okay? Your regular pain in the ass who'll you want to kill with your own bare hands soon enough again."

She laughed without inflexion. "I wish I could believe that."

"The question is what you intend to do next."

She shook her head slightly and mumbled, "I wish I knew."

* * *

They arrived back at the CBI minutes later. She'd said next to nothing upon arrival or in the elevator ride to their floor. Jane had filled in the silence by elaborating on his suspicions about Moss' murder and the suspect he'd identified at the scene.

She sat down in front of her desk as he trailed behind her. Barely making eye contact she picked up a pen and twirled it around in her fingers then sat it back down again, proceeding to tidy an already tidy desk. Restlessly, she pinned a lock of hair behind her ear. "Go talk to him, then," she ordered him quietly. "I-I have some stuff to do here so...so can you follow it up with Cho? Tell him I said it's his case to run."

"Lisbon, just because you're not up for field work just yet doesn't mean you need to hide away in here. You can still be valuable-"

"We both know I'm nothing but a liability at the moment, Jane."

He opened his mouth then closed it again. "What are your plans?" he asked her softly.

"I'm going to call Bertram, tell him I need to take some more time," she admitted sheepishly.

He nodded. "Good. But don't let him talk you into anything more than that."

"Like what?"

"Like making you believe you can't cut it anymore. He's a manipulative bastard, don't allow him to make those kinds of decisions for you long term. Okay?"

"Yeah," she murmured. "I know, of course, I won't."

Jane tensed when he saw nothing but defeat in her eyes, at odds with the words she'd spoken. The Director didn't know it yet but a clawing sensation in Jane's gut told him that Bertram had already won.

* * *

It had taken Jane less than ten minutes to obtain a confession from Ronny Murcer, Ricky Moss' second cousin and murderer. Murcer, the self-proclaimed 'big dog' in the neighbourhood, had discovered that Moss had decided to undercut his cousin's prices, approaching his regulars and vying for their trade. Whereas a few broken bones and a hospital stint may have deemed to be adequate punishment for his younger cousin's attempt to find a shortcut into moving up the ladder in his chosen profession, a highly incriminating _sext_ from a girl they were both sleeping with had sounded just as Murcer had picked up his baseball bat and was ready to inflict the first blow to Moss' kneecaps.

The sight of the photograph incensed an already angry Murcer and he'd struck blow upon blow upon his cousin in absolute fury instead of the carefully controlled punishment he'd initially had in mind.

As Cho and Jane exited the interrogation room to leave Rigsby to take his official statement, Cho remarked to Jane, "No tricks this time, huh?"

The interrogation was one of the most straightforward 'Jane' interrogations Cho had ever witnessed where the consultant simply cast his version of events with a straight face as he read the other's man face in response to his line of questioning. Once the lies were extracted from the truths it had been easy to decipher what had occurred.

"Not much in the mood for tricks or games presently," he admitted.

"No," Cho nodded. "Sac PD could have handled that case," he added.

Jane nodded. While not one for hiding his light under a bushel he had to agree. Even without his unique skillset, he was certain any trained interrogator would have retrieved the confession quite easily. Bertram's influence, obviously, that he'd chosen Lisbon's team instead.

"What's happening with Lisbon?" Cho asked as they made it back to the bullpen, nodding towards her office.

Jane peeked through her blinds. "She must have gone to talk to Bertram in person," he said with a shake of his head at the empty cubicle. "Wish she'd just called him."

"We could have covered for her, saved her kowtowing to him."

Jane looked at him with a shrug. "You know she wouldn't have allowed that once her decision was made."

"She could have stayed on desk duty."

"He'd have found a way to aggravate her there, too. Push her for budgets or whatever else she does at that desk of hers. I-I didn't realise how much he wanted her gone or the extremes he'd go to in order to make sure of it."

"What are you going to do about it?"

Jane quirked his eyebrows. "Make him regret it, what else?"

Cho huffed, a slight upturn to his lips. "You going there now?"

"Shortly, I have someone else to see first."

* * *

"Mr Jane!" the fair-headed woman rose from her desk quickly with a startled frown. "You can't just go in there!"

"Sure I can," he responded smoothly to the frazzled assistant he'd just walked past. "See?" he added with a smile, opening the door to Doctor Irene Hamilton's office.

Dr Hamilton looked up from her desk to see the consultant breeze through her door.

"Dr Hamilton," her assistant whimpered, "I-I'm sorry-"

"It's fine, Clare," Irene said affectionately. "I was expecting Mr Jane to pay me a visit. Although this is sooner than I imagined. Close the door behind you, dear."

As her assistant made her escape Jane narrowed his eyes at the older woman as she got to her feet. "What did you mean by that? he asked.

She outstretched her hand and smiled, "Irene. Patrick, right?"

He looked at it blankly for a split second then shook it slowly, his gaze never leaving her face. After a moment she pulled her hand back. "Did you get a read off my pulse? Tell me, what did it tell you about me?"

Jane, rarely lost for something to say, frowned slightly before he recovered. "I've never met you. So, why would you ask me that?" he asked evenly.

She motioned for him to sit on the couch as she took up a position in the armchair opposite. He complied begrudgingly. "So?" he said with more bite to his tone.

"We've never met, no. But surely you must realise that you're somewhat famous within these walls? Or perhaps that should be infamous?" She laughed. "I've seen you around, Patrick, and I admit I have been curious to what the fuss is all about."

He glanced around the psychiatrist's office, its wood panelled walls adorned with certificates and calming landscapes. He wasn't sure if he should be flattered or insulted that many of her patients had mentioned him as part of their therapy.

"Depends on who I've been talking to, huh?" she smiled.

"Sorry?"

"You're not sure if you're happy you got under people's skins or ashamed that you did. Depends on who talked to me about you."

He fought back a smile at the discerning woman in front of him. "Hmm." He went back to the topic he came to discuss. Seriously, "I know one person who certainly mentioned me. Someone you saw this morning, in fact."

"You know I can't discuss my patients, Patrick."

"Fine." He leant forward and stared at her. "Then I'll talk, you listen. Teresa Lisbon - you shouldn't have allowed her back in the field. What I want to know is – in making that decision – did you do it merely because you're incompetent...and, I have to admit, I was leaning towards that option before meeting you...but now...now I'm leaning towards the other option...which is ...did you make it because someone told you to make it."

Dr Hamilton blinked. "What? What do you mean? Why? What happened? What happened to Teresa? Did she go back into the field? Already?"

"As soon as she left your office."

The woman closed her eyes. "Oh no. I thought...I thought that...that when it came down to it she wouldn't. I thought she'd realise she wasn't ready for that stress once she thought it over."

Jane studied every expression and inflexion of every word that came out of her mouth. He had to be sure she wasn't a stooge for Bertram or Red John. "So, you are merely incompetent, then," he decided finally with a long exhale.

"Is she okay? Her team?" she asked him meekly.

Jane nodded quickly. "This time."

"I made a mistake," she said. "I'll call her back in here. Rescind my approval. I can't believe I got it so wrong."

Jane remarked drily, "She's been working with me for so long she's improved at pulling the wool over people's eyes."

Regretfully, "It shouldn't have happened with me. Can you ask her to come see me again?"

Jane stood up. Abruptly, "Why? So you can give her some more bad advice?"

"Patrick, I admit I made a grave mistake."

"And I'm going to make sure you don't make another one with her," he said, walking out.

* * *

He let himself in her front door, three hours and three calls that had gone unanswered later.

She hadn't returned to the CBI, a concise group text to her team her only means of communication. It told them she was taking a leave of absence and that she'd cleared it with Bertram that Cho move up into her position in the meantime.

"Lisbon?" he called out to the darkened living room, a bag of Chinese food in his right hand.

He noticed a light on upstairs and called again. Placing the takeout on the kitchen countertop he made his way towards the stairs. The thought of surprising her and getting shot in the process swept through his head. "I admit I borrowed your spare key," he said loudly, hovering at her bedroom door, the faint glow of a light underneath it.

He knocked on it three times. "Lisbon?" No response.

As he put his hand on the handle he snapped it back again as if an electric current ran through it, memories of another bedroom door flashing before him. He drew a deep breath and wished he had a god to pray to. "Please, no," he said to himself with another fortifying breath. For a second he wasn't sure if he had the strength to twist the handle and face what might lie ahead.

He opened the door slowly and peeked inside. He exhaled loudly upon seeing her sitting cross-legged in the middle of the floor, a pair of earphones plugged into each ear and wearing an oversized football jersey. His relief was short lived when he followed her gaze to the floor in front of her, her case file strewn open and each photograph of her laid out carefully in a neat formation. He counted twenty-five of them all in perfectly rigid lines of five.

"Lisbon," he said.

She jerked quickly as she noticed him out of the corner of her eye and pulled out her earbuds with a curse word. The tinny sounds of soft rock echoed quietly between them.

"Jane."

"What are you doing?"

"What does it look like? Reading my file."

He blinked and took a step closer. Images of her bruises, scratches and needle marks stared back at him in flaming technicolour. "I see that," he said carefully. "I suppose my question then is why?"

She looked at the photographs again and shrugged. "I had to see what you all saw. I-I had to see why you all look terrified around me."

She spoke so quietly he had to sit down beside her to hear her. "I'm not scared of you," he said in his gentlest voice.

She turned her head quickly and their eyes met once again. She frowned. "Yes, you are,"she stated. "But...but not because of these," she whispered, reading him. She tapped a photograph with her right hand for emphasis.

He swallowed thickly, the green of her eyes drawing him deeper into her gaze. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed her hand was balled into a fist as it rested against an image of a purple bruise. "What have you got there?"

She didn't respond and instead looked at the photographs again. "You should go, Jane," she told him.

"Lisbon? What do you have in your hand?"

She shook her head. "It's not what you think."

His voice rose. "No? Then show me."

She closed her eyes and breathed out. Her posture slackened as she unfurled her fingers slowly. A small clear bag that held white powder lay in her palm. "It's a test," she said quickly.

Jane's breathing accelerated. His voice rough, "What kind of test? And...and where did you even get that?"

She laughed reflexively. "I've been a cop for a long time, Jane. I know plenty of places to buy drugs by now."

Jane nodded. "Okay. But why...what do you mean it's a test?"

She said nothing, her eyes fixated on the images in front of her again.

"Lisbon!" he exclaimed. He balled his hands into fists to stop himself from reaching for her and shaking her out of whatever peculiar pensive mood this was. He got to his knees and exhaled. "Talk to me, Teresa."

She looked at him again, that same faraway look still in her eye that had been there since he arrived. She smiled gently at him. "I like how you say my first name," she said.

He frowned through a smile. "Then I'll say it more often if you tell me what the hell is going on here." He glanced at the powder again and then stared at her. "You haven't?-"

"No," she answered. "If I'd taken something you'd know about it."

"Good," he said with a firm nod. He moved to gather the photographs. "Look, let's get these back in their file and then I'll make some tea and we can talk-"

"Leave them," Lisbon said, putting her free hand on his right one. "They're helping."

"How is looking at these helping you?"

She moved the bag around in her two hands. "Looking at them is stopping me from opening this."

"You don't want to open that, Teresa."

She looked to the heavens with a heavy sigh. Her tone increased as she spoke. "Christ, Jane, of course, I don't _want_ to open it! But what I _want_ and what I feel I _need_ at this point are not the same damn thing! Don't you get that?!"

He rolled his eyes. "So this is the test, is it? See how long you can have drugs in your possession before you give in and take them?" He shook his head. "As plans go this is about as bad a one as I've ever heard. What the hell were you thinking, woman?"

Tears pricked at her eyes and she shook her head. She pushed the bag into his hand and closed her arms around herself. Beseechingly, "Get rid of it, will you, please?"

He went to get to his feet with a satisfied sigh to acquiesce then stopped himself, studied the powder and then Lisbon, warming her body with her arms and rocking slightly back and forth as she stared ahead. She hadn't even looked at him when she all but threw the bag at him.

"I can't do that," he told her quietly.

Her head whipped round to him, angry and confused. "What? Why not? That stuff means nothing to you!"

"Precisely," he said, struggling to remain in control. "I could do it in a second. It holds no power over me. But it does over you. So, that's why you need to dispose of it, not me."

"Jane," she shook her head as a tear escaped. "Please, just do it for me this once."

"No," he said thickly, his throat closing with emotion. "Because if there's a next time where you get this notion into your head and I'm not here then I need to know you can do it by yourself. And so do you. You know I'm right."

He expected her to explode in fury but instead she imploded, gathered her knees up to her chest and rested her forehead on them. Her tears were muffling the words she spoke. "I can't. Why do you think I'm looking at my file? And even looking at how I was in that wretched state still isn't enough to stop the craving I have for it. I was barely holding on when you arrived."

He put the bag down on the carpet and out of her eye line. His hand shook as he came closer to her and smoothed her hair. She'd had a shower and it was damp and silky to his touch. It smelled of peach and he felt her shiver under his fingertips. Or maybe that was him. "You're stronger than you think, you can get through this," he purred.

She shook her head and continued to cry. "I have nothing left, Jane. No job...no...no dignity. No fight left in me."

He continued his soothing strokes. "You have me," he said, a hint of amusement in his strangled tone. He attempted more humour. "I know it's not much but-"

He stopped talking when he saw her head peek out from its hiding place and her tears subside. He smiled and tucked a few strands of hair behind her left ear to uncover more of her face. She watched him silently as he attended to her before he rested a hand on her shoulder.

"There, that's better. Now, how about-"

His words were cut off when she caught his lips with her own.


	23. Chapter 23

**A/N: Happy 2017 everyone. Two of my New Year's resolutions are to try to update more regularly and to respond to reviews more often. A massive thank you for your continuing support and hope you enjoy this chapter.  
**

* * *

Chapter 23 - Extraction

 _ **Sacramento.**_

 _ **Around twelve months earlier.**_

"L-Lisbon!" Jane stammered, clutching her forearms and pushing her away before their lips had barely touched. Wide eyed he brought himself under control again quickly although his heart was racing.

"You're-you're obviously not thinking straight right now."

When he saw her redden immediately at his panicked rejection he tried to make a joke out of their joint embarrassment. He laughed but it was forced. "I mean, you must not be, right, otherwise you'd find someone much more worthy than I-"

"Oh my god," she mumbled, slapping the palms of her hands to her face. "I'm-I'm so sorry, Jane," she added, her words muffled, shaking her head.

"It's fine, really, don't worry about it," he replied as he ran a hand through his hair. The timbre of his voice was higher than he'd have liked. So much for being a mentalist, he hadn't seen that coming. "You were just..."

"Hyped up?" she supplied with a grunt of humiliation.

He laughed uneasily, his own words of weeks prior coming back to bite him firmly in the ass. "Let's just forget it ever happened," he offered. "No harm done."

He got to his feet and placed a hand out to assist her to hers, providing a figurative olive branch. She poked her head out through her hands as she felt him stand beside her and looked up under her eyelashes. She blushed again upon seeing the normally confident Patrick Jane so obviously flummoxed while valiantly trying to hide it. She took his hand and stood up slowly.

He was staring at her wordlessly as their fingers lingered before she pulled hers away first. Despite his words, his eyes spoke of a new restlessness, a desire to flee. His body, at odds with them, stayed resolutely routed to the spot.

"I am sorry, Jane," she said again, this time to his face. "I-I can't believe I just did that. Shows what a mess I am, huh?" She tried a laugh but it was unconvincing even to her own ears.

"Might have to agree with you for you to give me a shot," he responded with a shaky smile of his own.

"Yeah, right," she said, unconvinced, a new flatness to her voice as she bit the inside of her cheek.

He nodded to the file lying on the carpet for something to do other than stand there staring at each other, for anything to do to fill the silence. "Can we put this away now, do you think?"

She followed suit, nodding to the bag beside the opened folder. "Yeah, any craving I had for what's in there has left me now. And all I needed was to humiliate myself to make it vanish. Who'd have thought, huh? How's that for some homespun rehab therapy?" she said pithily.

He chuckled awkwardly. "No, don't be silly, of course not."

He went to work tidying the file as she lifted the clear plastic bag just as he placed the manila folder on the chair in her room. She looked at it for a long moment. "You want to watch me get rid of it?" she said quietly, nodding to the bathroom attached to her bedroom.

He licked his lips. "I think I would. If you don't mind."

She shook her head. "No. I understand."

He stayed at the opened door as he watched her flush it away without hesitation. She wiped her hands on her football jersey afterwards. "Okay?"

He nodded with a smile. "I'm sorry, I-"

"It's okay, I'd probably have asked the same in your position."

"How do you feel now it's gone?"

She shrugged. "Okay, I guess. Right now, anyway."

She walked over to her bed and sat down on it. "Thanks for stopping by," she said with a deep sigh, reaching down to lift up her Walkman and switching it off before depositing it on her nightstand.

"Who still has Walkmans these days?" Jane said, taking a few steps and only now recognising the tape player of their childhoods. "I thought I was the dinosaur where technology was concerned, not you."

"My mother's last birthday present to me," she said with a sad smile, "I listen to it sometimes still."

He nodded and ran his fingers over the smooth silver surface, lightly discoloured from wear and tear, the old black clunky buttons. He could imagine her crawling into bed at the end of a tough case as a means of coping with the tragedies she saw every day, listening to songs from her childhood to find a happier place, and a way to feel close to someone who loved her unconditionally in those dark moments. He touched his lips instinctively, and couldn't help but imagine himself as the one comforting her and loving her instead.

He focused on the Walkman again to draw him out of _those_ thoughts. He thought of her as that teenage girl again instead and could envision her shoving her headphones tight against her ears in her bedroom to drown out her father's drunken rants after her world turned on its head, her hands over them and white-knuckled as she attempted to lose herself in music. She'd been using it as a coping mechanism for a long time. And it wasn't hard to figure out she'd have worn the batteries down time and again in those six months he'd been in Vegas too. A sliver of shame wormed its way up his spine and he furrowed his brow.

"You okay?" she said with some anxiousness when she saw his frown, "this-this isn't going to get weird between us because of what I just did, is it?"

He picked up the Walkman and smiled at her, erasing the lines on his forehead with his usual smile that meant nothing and masked everything.

"Of course not," he said assuredly. He sat down on the bed beside her and took the tape out. He nudged her shoulder with his own. "See? No weirdness and here I am in bed with you, woman," he grinned.

She laughed and blushed, drawing the sleeves of her jersey further down her arms until she held them in her hands. Putting on a display like she almost believed him.

"A mix tape, huh?" he said with another smile. He read the gold writing on it, a gold sticker heart at either side of the word 'Teresa'. "Obviously from an admirer of yours," he said.

"Greg made it for me," she said with a little unease.

He nodded. "Ah, the breeder," he chuckled.

"Stop that," she said with a snort of a laugh. More serious, "He was a good man. Is a good man. I'm glad he found what he wanted with someone."

"Hm. You wouldn't have been happy with him, you know."

"I know that. I'm too intense and particular, right?"

He turned the tape in his hands with a smile. "I told you those were good things."

"Uh-huh."

He put the tape back in the player and placed it on the nightstand again. Both having trouble adjusting back to their usual to and fro, an awkward silence developed that Lisbon eventually filled as she stared at her hands.

"You know my father was an alcoholic?"

Caught off guard he took a second to respond. "Yes."

"That's where I got the idea to buy those drugs. He did the same thing once. Only it was a bottle of whisky in his case. I remember the brand of it clear as day and every time I see a bottle of it even now I think about him and what he did." She stopped talking and drew a deep breath. Jane listened attentively, waiting for her to continue.

She exhaled. "When he started drinking he wasn't violent, you see. He just...well, he always liked a drink so after my mom died he just drank a little more...then a little more, you know?"

"A gradual build up, yes."

She was chattering quickly now, Jane unsure if her newfound openness was out of a need to explain her actions earlier in buying drugs or simply to take her mind off her pass at him. Or a combination of both.

"Mhm-hmm. Then he started missing some days at work, he'd either be too hungover to go in or just couldn't be bothered. I thought I could talk to him back then when it all started. Talk him round somehow. I...I remember after about a fortnight he spilled beer all over this science project I'd been working on for days. I began to shout at him, cry, I made a horrible scene. It was more to do with my mom's death than a stupid science project and I know it was just an outlet for that but...it worked. Or I thought it did at the time.

"He began to cry...and I...and well, well, that shut me up. Even when my mother died I hadn't seen him do that. I guess he was still in shock at the wake and the funeral and so on. But that night...it was the first time I'd ever witnessed him cry."

She stopped talking abruptly, her face contorted in haunted memories. She drew her arms around herself in a gesture of comfort before she continued.

"He told me that he'd stop drinking so much. That he'd cut down. That he'd pull himself together. And I believed him. That night I thought he would. I-I _really_ thought he would. I thought he'd pull us all together again, fix us somehow. I thought he'd do that for us. I thought he'd do that for me."

Jane breathed out and flexed his fingers, restless to move closer and hold her. "What happened then?" he asked instead.

She let out a garbled laugh. "Well, you know what happened after. He didn't, obviously. He tried, though. For a while, I thought. Sorry, I'm-I'm getting sidetracked. The test, right. Almost forgot that's what I was trying to explain. The day after that conversation he went out and bought that bottle of whisky. At first, I was horrified after what he'd said the night before when he came home with it. He was grinning from ear to ear and I thought he'd been drinking already. But then he explained-"

"That it would serve as a test for his sobriety," Jane finished for her. "That he'd put in on display so you could see he'd stopped."

"Yeah, something like that," she answered with despondence.

"How long did he last until he drank it?"

"I'm not sure exactly. I thought he was doing well but then I noticed the cap was broken but that it was still full. I opened it and smelt it and...and all I could smell was ginger ale."

She chuckled humourlessly, "It was the first time I'd ever been played for a fool. First time I was a mark you'd call me. Believe me, it's not so much fun being on the other side of a con, Jane."

"Oh, Teresa," Jane whispered.

Her jade eyes found his staring at her, brimming with concern. She sniffed. "I can't believe I did the same thing he did today. That I repeated something I knew in my heart was incredibly stupid and risky. I think I just wanted to prove that I was stronger than he was."

"You are," he said with a shake of his head. His right hand found hers of its own accord and he squeezed it tightly. "You need to believe that. And you don't need to perform any tests to prove otherwise."

He looked deep into her eyes. "You're not your father, do you hear me? And you're going to beat this."

"You have more faith in me than I do in myself at the minute."

Earnestly, "Because I know you better than anyone else, maybe even better than you know yourself."

She nodded. "Yes, you do. Better than anyone ever has."

He swallowed, a lump in his throat. "Well, that goes both ways," he admitted to her quietly.

Her eyes, like dark saucers already, widened further. "You-you mean that?" she frowned.

He slipped his hand from hers as goosebumps alighted on his skin. Self-reproach hit him hard but he couldn't take his eyes off her. And he couldn't stop himself from being honest despite the pain in his gut as he thought of his wife.

He was a different man now to the one she knew. Changed irreparably into someone he wasn't certain she'd even like anymore, less love. A truer man than the self-indulgent exuberant and lighter version of the showman of his youth, less scarred by tragedy and haunted by demons. Whereas his wife knew the showman, husband and father, Teresa Lisbon had known the darkness of his soul more than his wife could ever have imagined was present. And the depths he'd go to in order to seek vengeance. And still she kept him in her life and loved him.

"I do," he whispered.

"Okay," she said, more a question than a statement. "I'm-I'm not sure what to say to that."

He smiled at her, her expression visibly honoured but a little ashamed too of feeling that way. "You don't have to say anything."

"Um, thanks, I guess," she mumbled.

"Can I ask you something?" she continued, the words spilling out of her mouth with a little panic. "Now...well, now I have you in an honest mood."

He quirked an eyebrow. "You trying to press the advantage now you have it, are you?"

She remained serious. "It's something that's been on my mind lately. But-but I've been too afraid to ask you. Afraid you'll lie to me. And-and a little afraid you might tell me the truth too if I'm being entirely honest."

"This sounds like some kind of riddle, Lisbon. Okay, what is it?"

She spoke with passion. "You'll tell me the truth? You promise? Whatever the answer is I need the truth from you about this, Jane."

His nerve endings went on high alert. But he nodded. "If it's that important to you, of course."

She inhaled sharply. "Lorelei Martins. Are you in love with her?"

* * *

 _ **Sacramento.**_

 _ **Present Day.**_

He wasn't surprised to wake up to a note taped to the fridge the next morning. They were back to avoidance as he had expected after their heated exchange the night before.

 _Gone for a run. Be back later._

 _L_

He grunted, exasperated, at both himself and at her.

He'd battled with sleep as he had every other night since they'd met again. The thought of her just down the hall, the thought of what they could have been doing instead of holding themselves back from being with each other hadn't left him all night. If he'd had any doubt she didn't have feelings for him still they'd been quashed when he'd chipped away at her stony veneer and caught a glimpse of the passionate woman behind. The hunger in her eyes was brief but utterly recognisable. He'd seen it once before, after all. He could have seduced her right there and then against the countertop. One kiss and he knew she'd initiate more in that moment. He imagined snaking his arms around her waist, peeling her clothes from her, teeth trailing on flesh, possessing her with his tongue...his fingers...

He breathed heavily and fetched the kettle with a shaky hand as torturous images of pale flesh and breathy pants sent renewed heat to his groin.

But he'd pulled back from her instead because if they'd had sex then...then...?

Exactly.

He didn't have a clue what would happen after that. She certainly wasn't ready for any declarations of love and he didn't want a quick screw against the fridge that would only put further strain on their tentative relationship or might end up breaking it completely. Perhaps she'd run from him again and this time for good.

But damn he'd been sorely tempted to take those eleven steps to her room at three am.

He rarely masturbated, partly due to the pride he felt at being able to control his body as well as his emotions and partly because it only exaggerated how alone he truly felt in the world most of the time. And the sight of himself in the mirror, ruddy-faced and sweating as he cleaned himself up with a tissue was a sadder figure than the one he already felt in everyday life as it was.

But by four am he gave in, closed his eyes as he lay on his bed and swung open the door to Lisbon's room in his memory palace, pushed the key into the locked chest that sat in it where all his erotic fantasies about her – both real and imagined – resided. It had allowed him to get a few hours sleep but also only succeeding in making him want the real thing more. It had been a struggle to close the lid on that chest again and he'd had to employ an additional padlock to keep himself in check or he'd be doing _that_ every night just to get by. And he was many things but he wasn't about to turn into t _hat_ type of man.

After making a light breakfast and reading the paper with still no sign of her return he added a note to the bottom of hers. He needed a distraction too.

 _Called to a case. C U later._

 _J_

He read it back then added quickly,

 _Sorry._

He left it vague intentionally.

* * *

He dropped a salad in front of Grace. "Hey," he smiled, "how's it going with the dark web?"

She glanced at the clear box before her. "Thanks, Jane. How'd you know I'd be here on a Saturday?"

"Call it intuition. So?"

She shook her head as she opened the container and fished out a plastic fork. "Nothing that fits so far. But I needed two showers last night and I'll probably need three today after the creeps I have found."

"I'm sure. Keep looking."

"Of course." She glanced behind him. "No Lisbon with you?"

"No, thought I'd give her some respite from my scintillating company," he smiled.

"How is she coping?" she asked him quietly. "Volker, huh?"

"She's fine, as well as can be expected, Grace."

* * *

"Hey," he said, peeking inside Cho's office. He sat down opposite his team leader and pushed a brown wrapped sandwich towards the other man, opening one of his own.

"Any deal worked out with Medina?" Jane asked.

Cho barely looked up from his paperwork to acknowledge the sandwich. "Thanks. No, his lawyer's being a pain in the ass. AG too, he's not happy about this deal."

"For once I agree with him, Medina doesn't deserve one."

"He won't talk further without it. Might need him if we can't crack Volker on Monday."

"Mm. Maybe I should have another talk with him, see if I can persuade him to change his mind."

"Leave it for now. If nothing changes by Monday then we'll change tack."

"Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why don't you want me to talk to him again now?"

Cho sighed and looked him in the eye. "His lawyer's threatening to prosecute Lisbon for what she did."

Jane laughed. "I'm sorry? He's what?" Surprised amusement transformed into anger he got off his chair, wiping crumbs from his fingers onto his jacket. "Let me talk to him."

As Cho battled with his decision Jane spoke again with decisiveness. "Sorry, I wasn't clear. I'm going to talk to him."

"All right," Cho sighed, getting up, "I better come with you, then."

* * *

Medina's lawyer wore a shiny navy suit and matching acrylic tie, his black hair greased back from his tanned face. Owlish dark eyes stared at Jane and Cho. Jane and Cho exchanged glances upon entering the room, the term shyster lawyer could have been invented for him. Medina sat beside him contemplatively, barely acknowledging either of them as they walked in and sat opposite.

The lawyer, named Tony Garson, smiled confidently at the senior agent and consultant after introductions were made. "So, I take it a deal has been brokered, gentlemen? Just to reiterate this is what my client requires for his ongoing co-operation – full immunity from prosecution for any past crimes in relation to your case, WitSec to a State of his choosing, full protective custody until then, a start up allowance-"

"No," Jane cut in.

A wolfish smile unfurled its way across Garson's lips. He closed the file in front of him. "Then my client has nothing further to say. Plus, we will be going after former Agent Lisbon if you insist on bringing this nonsense to trial. I have already started to draw up papers for both a criminal and a civil case. Anything my client said was under duress in that room and we all know it. So, if you drag your heels and allow this to go to court the CBI will be the people under trial, not my client."

Silence hung in the air as Jane stared at the other man, his demeanour unflappable as his eyes turned into dark slits. Garson coloured under his penetrating gaze and cleared his throat. He went to get up to escape it.

Jane said calmly, "We're not done. You haven't heard our counter terms yet."

Garson sat down again, adjusted his tie. "Fine. What are your terms? We're amenable to a little wiggle room. But WitSec and all past charges dropped are non negotiable-"

"No, we won't be agreeing to any of that," Jane said with an offhand wave of his hand. "Not anymore. We've changed our minds," he shrugged. "We need nothing further from him."

"Then my client is free to go? No charges."

"Sure," Jane nodded with an easy smile.

"Don't think this allows Teresa Lisbon to walk away without charges being filed-"

"He can walk. If that's what he thinks is best for him," Jane interrupted as if the other man hadn't spoke. He turned his attention to Medina. "What do you think? You want to get out of here, go back to the life you had again, listen to the cockroach beside you?"

"Hey!" Garson interjected.

"Be quiet," Jane snapped before composing himself to eye Medina again.

He licked his lips and nodded. "Yeah, makes sense. You can't win. Not with what she did to me yesterday."

"What _she_ did?" Jane repeated. He emitted a short mirthless chuckle. With gritted teeth, "Really?"

Medina coloured and looked to his hands.

"Now I really want to allow you to walk out of here," Jane added.

When Medina frowned slightly as his remark, Cho said to him, "Let's look at this logically. You gave us Volker's name-"

Garson interjected, "Anything my client said or didn't say yesterday-"

"Could be inadmissable in court. Yes, it could work out that way," Cho agreed.

"But we don't have to worry about it getting to court, do we, Cho?" Jane shrugged.

"No. No, we don't," his boss agreed.

"Not with you," Jane chipped in again happily as he glanced at Medina again. "Your life as you knew it was over as soon as you gave us Volker's name. When we talk to him it'll take his people about a minute of investigating to know it was you who did that, prison or no prison. You were picked up and brought here. You've been here for a night. Even if he isn't sure what exactly you told us it won't matter, he'll shut you up instead. It's cleaner, easier. So this...so called threat against Teresa Lisbon you talk of...it'll come to nothing because you'll be dead before your dumb lawyer can file the paperwork-"

The lawyer harrumphed, "If you're threatening my client-"

"If I was threatening him, believe me, you'd know about it," Jane barked, before focusing back on Medina.

He drew a breath. "Talk. Or we'll throw you out of here right now and let you take your chances. Good luck with that. You might escape Volker's reach but he'll go after your family instead and you know it."

Panicked, "But what about my deal?"

Cho intervened. "You tell us everything now I'll do my best to protect you. Set you and your family up with a security detail."

"For how long?"

"Until you testify against Volker and anyone else involved you name. Immunity stands if you give us everything, no holding back. After that, up to you what you want to do. But I'd watch my back, move away, and emigrate maybe if you can afford it."

"What about WitSec?!" his lawyer exclaimed.

Cho leant back and folded his arms across his chest. "That's off the table now," he said, a hint of a smile on his lips.

Medina looked to Garson open mouthed. "I thought you said-"

"See, that was your first mistake, trusting a lawyer," Jane smiled. He looked to Garson with disdain. "Especially this slippery son of a bitch." His expression darkened as he stared at Medina again. "And your second was pissing me off more than I already was with you and threatening Teresa Lisbon after what you put her through. Now, are you finally ready to do the right thing and tell us everything you know, you piece of crap?"

Medina nodded after a second. "Fine. Fine. I'll tell you everything."


	24. Chapter 24

Chapter 24 – Fight or Flight

 _ **Sacramento.**_

 _ **Around twelve months earlier.**_

He laughed in her face - an involuntary action like a sneeze or a spasm. Not just a regular chuckle but a loud guffaw. It was only the look of confusion and the annoyance on her face that he stopped abruptly. "How could you think...?!" He exhaled loudly. "No, Lisbon, of course, I'm not in love with her. It's preposterous."

"Is it?"

Firmly, "Yes."

"You had sex with her."

He rolled his eyes. "How many times do I need to explain why I did that? And what we did was about as far removed from love as you can get, believe me. Sex? Yes. Love? Oh, please."

He blushed, so caught up in giving her absolute honesty he'd revealed much more than he meant to about his night with Red John's girl. He focused on his hands instead of looking at her, fidgeting with his fingertips.

She continued, "So if she'd been three hundred pounds and seventy you'd still have slept with her, is that what you're saying?"

He shook his head in irritation, gritting his teeth. "Yes."

When she didn't respond he caught her eyes again. "Yes," he repeated clearly. "So, can we be done with this subject once and for all?"

"I'm sure it helped she wasn't, though," Lisbon remarked under her breath.

Jane bounded off the bed with a heavy grunt. "You think I enjoyed myself?! Do you really think I liked it? Dear god, Lisbon. What kind of man do you take me for?!"

She matched his annoyance. "That's just it, Jane. After _her,_ it felt like I didn't know you anymore. I couldn't tell what kind of man you were. That you would basically prostitute yourself like that! That you could be with someone in that way who also..." Her words trailed off as she bit down on her tongue to stop from voicing her train of thought.

Jane picked up on it immediately. Aggravated, "Go on, say it. It's not like I don't know he hasn't had sex with her too."

She ran out of steam and sighed. "How could you do that to yourself? Be with someone who's been with him of all people? I mean... yes, she's beautiful but-"

He snorted a humourless laugh. "Didn't matter what she looked like, Teresa. As we've already established. It was a test and I had to pass it. That's all."

Faced with her scepticism he continued, "You're looking at it all wrong. You're looking at like it was sex so therefore emotions had to play a part in it. I simply switched mine off for the duration, removed them from the equation."

"I can't believe it was that easy."

"For a normal person, no. But I'm well practised in doing so, easy enough with practice to feel nothing and go through the motions."

"Just let your lizard brain take over, huh?"

He smiled. "Something like that."

When he noticed her refrain from further questions he added, "It was just that one night, you know. Nothing happened between us when she escaped from prison."

Surprised, "No? Surely that would have only led to her being more malleable?"

He quirked an eyebrow. "I think you might be overestimating my sexual prowess but thank you for the compliment."

She blushed as he continued, "But it would have been pointless, nevertheless. She would have seen that play in a heartbeat. I had to be as unthreatening as possible with her. And had to ensure she felt like she was in control the entire time. Seducing her would have been counterproductive to that."

Lisbon shook her head in astonishment. "You talk about sex like it's nothing more than a tactic to be utilised."

Softly, "With her it was. Please understand that, Teresa."

Their eyes met until she looked at her feet a second later.

"What else?" he asked gently. "We're here now. We might as well get to it all. What else are you concerned about?"

"I'm not sure I'd know where to begin," she whispered, wiggling her toes in front of her.

"Sure you do. Right now there's something else bothering you. That's obvious enough."

She looked at him squarely. "How do you know that?"

He laughed softly. "A magician never reveals his secrets, Lisbon." Serious again, "Come on, let me have it."

She puffed out a large breath. "All right, then. How you changed towards me – that bothered me. More than bothered. Irritated the hell out of me..." Her voice dipped lower. "H-hurt me. Until my kidnapping, I felt like some kind of dog you threw the occasional scrap at to keep happy after Vegas. Don't think I didn't notice. And I like the sucker I am, I just took it from you and said nothing in return."

He sat back down beside her, his shoulders slumped. He said nothing for a long moment and rubbed his hands up and down his face. Then, "Part of why I went to Vegas was to keep you safe," he whispered, his words muffled by his hands as he wiped his eyes with his fingertips, "and then continuing to try and keep you safe after I came back."

Perplexed, "What?"

He shook his head with a sad laugh and stared ahead. "Christ, what does it matter now?" he said more to himself than to her. "None of it worked, anyway, did it? He still took you in the end."

"What didn't work? What are you talking about, Jane?"

He emitted a long sigh before he looked at her. "I was in Vegas for six months, Lisbon. I broke all contact with the CBI and everyone I knew there."

Irritated, "I know all that, Jane. I was there."

"And as you no doubt have already realised or should have realised, that the hardest part of those six months was being away from you - knowing that I was hurting you every day I didn't call you back. But I thought it'd worth it. I thought, by doing so, you'd be safe."

When faced with her continuing confusion he added, "Think back before I left. You remember the little girl in the cemetery?"

"Of course, I do."

"Well, that little girl scared the hell out of me, Lisbon. That day in the cemetery he sent her to make a point – a replica of my child at the age she'd have been if he hadn't murdered her."

His voice cracked slightly and he summoned a deep breath to continue. "He asked her to ask me if I was going to give up. In other words - if I was ready to give up. And me, being me, thought about those words with all their connotations. Just as he knew I would. Naturally, the first interpretation was what you believed – what everyone presumed they meant."

"Were you ready to give up looking for him? Yes."

He nodded. "Then I came to believe he meant much more than that. And that his words to me – that they were just as much a warning as a question. Perhaps more so. That he wasn't just asking me to give up my quest...but to give up my life as it stood too...and-and you, specifically. The little girl was a warning - a reproduction of my child if she'd turned into a teenager as I've said. If I hadn't acted how I did then I believe his next warning could have been you." He looked to his hands, twisted his wedding ring around his finger. He whispered. "A-Another replica, if you will.

"And...and I couldn't take the chance that he'd merely hypnotise you like he did her or take the chance I was wrong in my guesswork. I didn't flee just to catch him, to make him believe I'd done as he asked. I also fled to keep you safe from him, Teresa."

Fresh tears sparkled in her eyes. "Oh god, Jane. Why didn't you...why _haven't_ you told me all this before? Before you left-"

"I had to make it appear real. All of it."

She bristled, "Let's agree to disagree on that approach. But when you came back you should have told me then at the very least. It would have...it would have made it hurt less."

He shrugged. "You were understandably mad at me when I got back and I wanted to keep it that way. I _had_ to keep it that way. As much as I could, especially in company and when we were in Sacramento."

"To protect me?"

When he nodded mutely with pursed lips she closed her eyes and sighed. "Christ, Jane. How many times do I need to tell you that's not your job?"

He sniffed. "I was gone six months and still the only test he had for me was to ask for your life. And when he discovered I couldn't go through with killing you that put an even larger target on your head." He added wryly with a smile, "No pun intended."

He continued, "So I had to up the ante when I came back. Be a bigger bastard to you than I had been before I left. Try to convince him that just because I wouldn't and couldn't kill you it didn't mean that I..." He licked his lips as his words trailed off.

She gaped at him. "That's why you left it for Lorelei to tell me you slept together. You knew it would humiliate me hearing about it from her."

"I knew she'd tell you. Of course, she would. That she knew it would affect you and cause tension between us for keeping it from you. And I knew I had to let her. I didn't know if she was in contact with any of Red John's men while in custody but if she was then I had to make it look like I didn't give a damn about your feelings when I came back."

Silence descended for a few moments. "I honestly want to punch you at this very minute," she finally concluded. "If I had the strength I probably would."

"Well, it wouldn't be the first time," he remarked drily.

She grew silent after a short chuckle. She put her hand on his arm to gain his attention. Serious, "Tell me you didn't have sex with her to...I don't know...help prove the same thing. Tell me that, Jane."

He placed a hand on hers. A hint of amusement crossed his features. "If I did I obviously didn't put in much of convincing display. He still asked for your head the next day, my dear."

Worried, "I'm serious...because if you did-"

"I didn't sleep with her for that reason, no. I would still have had sex with her without it."

She blinked. "I don't know how that makes me feel more relieved now but it does. Somehow."

He nodded with a snort of a laugh. "Good. So are we finally done with talking about Lorelei Martins?"

Her hesitation made him roll his eyes again. "Seriously? What more do you want to know? How long it took? Positions?"

She went scarlet. "No, of course, I damn well don't."

His patience almost exhausted, "Then what else?"

"You helped her escape from prison."

He said nothing but half shrugged.

"I know you did," she stated.

Evenly, "Is that your question?"

Annoyed, "No. My question is what your plan is. You believe she'll come back and tell you who he is when she discovers you were right and that Red John killed her sister, correct?"

"That's the hope."

"Hm."

"You don't believe that's going to occur quite obviously."

"No, I don't," she said, looking him in the eye. "I think she'll kill him herself before she tells you who he is. Or he'll kill her first."

"Those are also possibilities. But I have to hope that she trusts me enough-"

She scoffed, "You're putting your trust into a woman who was mistress to a serial killer. You think sleeping with her one night is going to make her do as you ask? She was with him for _years_ , Jane. She's probably done unspeakable things-"

"I know exactly who she is and what she's capable of, Lisbon. But I have to allow her to find out who he is for herself; she was never going to take my word for it."

"Jane, I'm just trying to look out for you. I-I don't want to see you get blindsided because of your natural...predilection."

He frowned. "Predilection for what, exactly?"

Uncomfortably, "Women like her."

"And what does that mean? I've told you until I'm blue in the face why-"

"I'm not talking about Lorelei, specifically. But she does fit in with your...type. Hence why I'm concerned."

Amused, "Oh, I have a type now, do I? Please, do go on."

She shot him a dirty look then tilted her chin defiantly. "Dangerous women. You're attracted to them. And I'm not just talking about women connected to Red John. I've seen it before with you. It's like you can't help yourself."

He frowned then chuckled lightly. "Wow, you've been holding back on saying anything to my face about her for a long while. You want to discuss Walter Mashburn too if we're now onto discussing Erica Flynn?"

He added quickly, "Not that it's any of your business but, no, I didn't have sex with her. Unlike you and-"

Shamefaced, "We're not talking about me and my...types, Jane."

"Well, isn't that convenient," he muttered.

She ignored his comment and continued, "I only brought the subject up to make my point. Erica, Lorelei, that...that widow you bet Rigsby you could seduce-"

"Oh, please, now you're just grasping at straws."

"You were attracted to her, you admitted as much to me!"

He shrugged, "Maybe I was. She thought she was smarter than me and could seduce me into doing what she wanted me to do. Just like Erica."

She scoffed, "And they failed, huh? The mighty Patrick Jane with his heart as cold as ice that nothing can pierce it."

"Yeah," Jane said, amusement dropped from his voice. "Something like that."

"I didn't mean it to sound like that," she said softly.

He smiled and looked down. "You're not entirely wrong. And it's better that it is. And that I keep it that way."

"I know that's not the case, Jane. I know you're not cold hearted-"

"You called me it once."

"Well, I was wrong. Or, at least, it's not how you are all of the time. Far from it. And lately, how you've looked after me-"

"It was the least I could do," he said, looking at her with a sigh. "It's my fault-"

"Stop. Please don't say that. What happened to me wasn't your fault. But if you really want to make it up to me then just say you'll be careful with Lorelei when she reappears. Don't let her suck you into the game she wants you to play or allow your arrogance in believing you have the upper hand with her detract you from discovering who he is. Although why you'd believe she'd give you the correct name I don't know. She could tell you it was anyone."

"I'm not that naive. I'm not going to simply murder a man on her say so alone."

She nodded quickly. "Good."

"You're not going to attempt to talk me out of killing him on this occasion?"

"Would it make a difference if I tried?"

Softly, "No."

Wearily, "Well, there you go then. Be careful?" she reiterated.

"Of dangerous women?" he smiled.

"Are you really going to try to deny you're not attracted to them?"

"Maybe you have a point," he conceded with another soft smile in her direction.

She swallowed and looked away from his stare and back down to her bare toes again, wiggling them once more and pursing her lips tight to hide her hurt. But a second later her posture slackened and the last vestiges of her wall of defence came down, shattered either by sheer exhaustion in the effort of maintaining it or merely careless that he'd already seen or at her lowest and had nothing left to hide from him.

He stared at her side profile, her lips curved downwards that sent painful shivers up his spine. Sadder and more alone than he'd ever witnessed before, he was utterly beguiled by her and couldn't shift his gaze. His head told him to leave now. Before he said or did something he could never take back. He shifted slightly on the bed beside her and her emerald gaze sprung back to him, imprisoning him once again, holding him in place.

He spoke quietly and purposefully before he could stop himself. "Those women you described as dangerous...they're not...they're not dangerous to me."

A line appeared between her eyes as she glanced back at him. "At least two of them are murderers, Jane."

He pressed his right hand to his heart. Solemnly, "Not dangerous to _me_ , Lisbon. Not in here."

He moved his left hand to his temple. "Nor in here."

He breathed out slowly as he placed his hands slowly in his lap again. "If anything, women like that are safe. Safe to be attracted to, safe to flirt with, pretend to seduce...to seduce..." He licked his lips, "kiss or have sex with, even. They revel in the darkness inside me - they don't want to remove it. They add to it, not detract from it."

Quietly, "You understand? They're _safe_ , Teresa."

Watery eyes met his. "Why on earth would you want that? You really think that little of yourself, that those are the only type of women you think you deserve?"

"I've already told you why. And it's better this way. For _everyone_. Necessary, even, for what lies ahead for me."

She shook her head. "Bullshit."

Amusement washed over his features, softening them. "That's your considered opposing argument?"

"I'm not saying you didn't just mean what you said, you're screwed up enough to believe that to be true. But it's more than that, isn't it? You're terrified of actually feeling something for someone again. That's really what it boils down to. You can wrap it up any way you choose but that's the truth of the matter, isn't it?"

He considered her point then shrugged. "Wouldn't you be in my position? And you're not so far from that yourself - you're frightened of commitment too."

Quietly, "Maybe I just haven't met the right man yet."

"Perhaps," he answered, their eyes locked on each other.

"So that's how you intend to live your life? Alone on this island in your head?"

Another shrug. "Safer."

"You're lying to yourself, Jane."

She moved from sitting to kneeling on the bed facing him. She took his hands firmly in hers, turning him so he looked up at her. "What are you doing, Lisbon?"

"Look at me," she ordered him.

"I am."

"No. Look at me. Really look at me, Jane."

His eyes raked over her face slowly as he took in her delicate mouth set in a small pout, her eyes dark green and determined, button nose and her forehead creased by a frown. The freckles that adorned her. He moved his gaze to her neck, the gold of her cross, the darker freckle on her collarbone. One shoulder bared from the oversized jersey she wore his eyes travelled to the alabaster skin revealed, the contour of the crook of her neck. He continued, unashamedly fixing his eyes on her breasts, watching the slow rise and fall of her chest. He took in the slim build of her hips, the toned stomach and thighs he knew must lie beneath the looseness of her nightwear, her knees as they touched his right thigh as she knelt beside him. His stare drifted to her arms and he pulled her left hand to inspect the underside. She pulled back, track lines exposed and he shook his head. "This was your idea," he said softly. "And these are why I need to be alone," he added quietly, looking at them before drawing his face back to hers. His pained whisper echoed in the emptiness surrounding them. "You only have these because of me."

"No," she told him tenderly. "I have these because of _him_."

She watched his eyes drift to her mouth before he pulled back again, visibly unsettled as he shook his head.

Still holding hands, "There's a problem with you suggesting that you're better off alone," she said.

"There is?"

"Yes. Because I won't let you." She gripped his hands tighter. "I simply won't allow it."

A sad smile crept over his lips as he looked at their hands joined between them. "Oh? And what's your plan? Keep me chained to you like this forever, is it?"

"Actually, I was just getting the feeling you already were. Or, at the very least, perhaps you wanted to be."

He caught his breath audibly then peered at his right wrist, her index finger placed on the pulse point there. He knew she'd picked up on its quickening as he'd looked at her. And knew she'd guessed exactly what it meant.

"That was sneaky of you," he said with much more control than he felt.

"Guess I've learned a few things from you over the years."

* * *

 _ **Sacramento.**_

 _ **Present Day.**_

"Feel better?" Cho said as Jane and he left the room while another agent entered to take Medina's statement.

"Getting there," Jane smiled.

As they made it back to Cho's office they sat opposite each other again and Jane lifted a file from the corner of Cho's desk. He began to read its contents quietly as he went about eating his sandwich again.

"You no home to go to?" Cho asked, typing on his computer. "Thought you'd want to share the news about Medina with Lisbon asap."

"Hm?" Jane commented, reading. "Meh, I'll do it later, no rush; would rather get his statement signed first just to be sure."

"Okay. What happened between you and Lisbon?"

"Hm?" Jane replied again, his eyes firmly on the file in his lap. "You know...the grandson's statement here-"

"He lied. Yeah, we know. That case was closed last week."

Jane squinted at him. "It was?"

"When you were in Maine."

"Oh," he said, closing the file with a flourish and sliding it back on the desk. "Anything else you want me to look at?"

"What happened with Lisbon?" Cho asked again.

"How do you mean?"

Cho leant forward and began to unwrap his Reuben. "You're here on a Saturday. That's not unusual - normally. But it is because she's back in town. Thought you'd want to spend time with her. So, why aren't you?"

Jane shrugged. "Well, she's staying with me as you know. Just...just giving her some space for a few hours. That's all. I can be a bit much, it's hard to believe, I know."

Cho grunted. "You two have a falling out?"

Jane laughed, "No, of course not."

Cho shook his head, just held back an eye roll. "All right. If you say so."

He began to tuck into his sandwich.

"She tried to set me up with a woman from my building last night," Jane finally blurted out moments later. He sighed. "It was...absolutely mortifying."

Cho raised an eyebrow as his lips quirked slightly in amusement. "Was she cute?"

Jane shot him a glare. "No wonder I don't normally participate in these dismal displays of what's considered male bonding. Let's pretend I didn't just share that with you and move on. So, do you have an actual open case you want me to look at or-"

"Lisbon's not ready," Cho interrupted, serious again. "You can't push her into a relationship just because you're ready for one with her now."

Jane blinked and looked off to the side for a second. His instinctive reaction to scoff at such a remark was superseded by wanting his trusted friend's advice. Why else would he have gone to the CBI in the first place? He could have easily gone to the park for the afternoon or the library if he hadn't.

He caught Cho's unrepentant gaze and pursed his lips as he swallowed. "How long have you known how I've felt about her?" he asked him quietly.

To his surprise, Cho smiled and emitted a small chuckle. "Probably longer than you admitted it to yourself."

Jane huffed in agreement, "Yeah." He sighed loudly and leant back in his chair. "I think I'm screwing it up."

"Knowing the two of you, you're probably both screwing it up."

Jane struggled with his response momentarily. "Probably. And you're right – about her not being ready. I know that. And I...I'm not even completely sure she ever will be. Or that she ever _should_ be, at all, with me. But since I've seen her again..."

He shook his head. "I'm not used to feeling like this...this feeling like I'm out of control. I'm being ruled by my emotions and I can't seem to think straight around her anymore. It's...it's different with her now...somehow."

Cho remarked drily, "You're in love. That's what happens."

Jane nodded thoughtfully. "Not much point in denying it, is there? I'm coming to you for advice on how to handle it, shows how far I've fallen. And how much."

"Could have been worse, you could have gone to Rigsby."

Jane laughed softly before he sighed again. "I've loved her for a long time. Yet I haven't acted or felt like this until now."

"Red John was alive back then."

"Yeah," he drawled.

"Give her some space. And time."

"That's your big piece of advice? Gee, I _could_ have gone to Rigsby for that nugget of wisdom, my friend."

Cho suppressed a chuckle. "All right then. Your focus used to be split - hunting Red John and protecting her from him. And now he's out of your life..."

"She gets all my attention."

"You have an obsessive personality – used to be money, fame, conning people, and so on. Then it was Red John. And now it's Lisbon. It's who you are. You're not satisfied unless you're trying to solve a puzzle...or to finish something you started. She's both to you currently – maybe she always has been."

Jane drummed his fingers against his lips. "That's quite a depressing theory. You almost make it sound like I'll never be happy no matter what I get. That I'll always want something more."

"You were happy once, weren't you?"

Jane smiled sadly and looked to his lap. "Yeah, once. Maybe that was it and I don't get a do-over."

"Maybe. But maybe you do. Up to you to figure out how."

Even when he had Angela and Charlotte it still wasn't enough for him, though, he thought ruefully. Would it be the same with Lisbon or had he learned that particularly painful lesson in the hardest way possible?

If he managed to secure her affections would he feel the pull of something else also afterwards? Would she be enough? Or would he press some issue between them that would force some kind of showdown? She was as stubborn as he was and a stalemate could easily ensue where neither of them was truly happy with the other one. And, not only obsessive, he had a track record of ruining something good. And she didn't exactly have a good track record of entangling herself romantically or letting her guard down in the first place.

These were the big questions. Was he capable of being happy for a sustained period of time at all before worry or fear or the lure of something else overcame him? And was she too gun-shy and fearful to take a chance on him?

They were bleak prospects to consider but something they'd each have to work through if they had any chance of finding happiness and some peace in their lives.

The truth was he had been drifting since Red John and Lisbon's reappearance had made him grasp on to her like the life preserver she'd always been to him. But she didn't have the same buoyancy she once had and following along the lines of that same analogy he'd drag her under the current if he didn't learn how to swim for himself first. And perhaps he needed to be the lifejacket until she found her sea legs again. _If_ she let him. And that was a big 'if' as things currently stood. Maybe only then they could find a way of surviving and swimming together.

As Jane was contemplating, Cho had already gone back to his paperwork while eating his sandwich. He quickly grabbed a file from beside him and passed it to Jane without looking at him. "Here's the Dawson file, have a look at it and tell me what you think of the wife's alibi," he muttered in his usual monotone, taking another bite.

* * *

"Hey!" he said, entering his apartment to see Lisbon standing by the island counter, a cup of tea in hand. She was gazing out the picture windows dressed in jeans and a white T-shirt. Her head whipped round to the door at the sound of his voice.

Nervously, "Hi, you're back."

He crossed to the kettle and filled it behind her. "Yeah, sorry I missed you this morning," he said breezily. "Nice run?"

"Yeah, good thanks."

He nodded, turned quickly, "Look-"

She'd turned at the same moment with the same word. They both smiled awkwardly. "You first," she said.

"I just wanted to apologise. Properly. Last night I-..." He licked his lips. "The last thing I want to do is make you feel uncomfortable around me while you're here. Sorry, I overstepped some lines. I apologise."

She nodded mutely for a moment, somewhat stunned. "Ah...thank you." She laughed uneasily. "Actually, I wanted to apologise to you too – again. I can't believe I tried to set you up last night. And as nice as Anne it wasn't my place to do so. I'm sorry, Jane."

He smiled. "You're forgiven. Okay. So, we're good?"

"If you are-?"

Confidently, "Absolutely. Friends, right?"

She nodded with a more relaxed smile. "Friends."

His eyes twinkled. "Well, my _friend_ , I have some news you might like to hear about your friend Medina."

* * *

 **A/N: In this chapter, I referenced the little girl 'Hailey' who spoke to Jane in the cemetery in Red Rover, Red Rover. As TM sometimes served us some conflicting timeline shifts likewise I've adapted her age to around thirteen (I believe the girl who played her was nine when she portrayed her) so it'd fit in better with a small part of a scene further ahead in the story. In case there are any purists out there thought I'd explain before you pulled me up on it now or later.**


	25. Chapter 25

Chapter 25 – Intent

 ** _Sacramento_**

 ** _Around twelve months earlier._**

He sought an escape route immediately. Smoothly, "You're a beautiful woman, Teresa. What man wouldn't react in that way when he takes the time to admire you?"

"Still trying to make me believe you're on that desert island of yours?" she remarked with a smile that was half playful, half smug. "That all you see when you look at me is that I'm a vaguely attractive female?"

When he didn't respond she added, "Is that why you looked afraid of me earlier?" she asked, pinning him to the spot. "Am I...am I dangerous to you, Jane?"

He inhaled sharply. "No."

He went to move off the bed but she kept hold of his hands, made him look at her. "Am I?" she asked again.

"No," he repeated, his face calm and composed, contrary to how his voice shook when he spoke.

"Your pulse is telling me something different."

"Lisbon," he said, shaking his head. "Please."

"Please what, Jane?" she said with more assurance, gripping a lapel of his jacket and holding him in place with her left hand. She trailed the fingers of her right over the rough material of his jacket upwards, stopping when they reached his bicep. Still maintaining eye contact she moved it across to his heart. She placed her palm on it firmly, could feel the gentle _thump thump_ under his shirt. As she moved her body closer towards his it quickened for a brief moment before it slowed down again considerably.

"You're trying to control your breathing," she said gently, edging closer to him still. "But you're taking it too far. Your heart rate is much slower than it should be considering these circumstances."

"Since when are you so familiar with biofeedback and pulse points?" he asked, offering her a cool facade.

"Like I said, I've picked up a few things from you all these years. And now you're trying to distract me and make me believe something I know isn't true."

"I don't want you to make a fool of yourself again, Lisbon." He looked down at her hand bunched up in his lapel. "Now let me go. This has gone far enough."

"I would if I really thought that's what you wanted."

"It is-"

Fiercely, "No, it isn't. This is what you want. I can see it in you, Jane. I can _feel_ it in you. You just won't admit it, though, will you?" She pressed her hand harder against his chest. "You could release yourself from me if you really wanted to; I'm not exactly strong at the minute, am I? You could leave. But you haven't and you won't, will you?"

Weakly, "Just stop." He placed his hand on hers over his chest to remove it, given up on controlling the frantic beat of his heart. He could practically hear it pounding rapidly in his ears. "Stop this," he pleaded.

She ignored him and moved forward, his eyes on stalks as she leant in, breathed in his scent at the base of his neck. Her breath licked his skin and he closed his eyes, giving in to the blissful yet torturous sensations, his blood rushing red hot, his nerve endings set alight.

Instead of kissing him she drew her mouth upwards slowly, short pants expelled as she made her way to his ear, warming his flesh, further warming his blood. "I know what living in darkness is like too, Jane," she whispered. "Especially lately. And...and do you know what I came to realise?"

Any words in response caught in his throat. He shook his head with an audible swallow.

She kissed his earlobe with the lightest of touches. "That you're where I find _my_ light. And if I am where you find yours...if...if that's what you were trying...well, trying _not_ to say...then I can't understand why you wouldn't want to take comfort in that."

She kissed him just below his ear gently, could feel his heart echo loudly beneath her hand, his still on top of it, grasped tightly to hers now. She felt the fight for control leave him, his breathing becoming increasingly erratic as she kissed his neck gently. She opened her eyes and saw his firmly shut, his mouth slightly parted as she kissed his cheek with small pecks.

"That's why you're still here, isn't it?" she continued. "Because you _do_ want that comfort. You _do_ want that light. Maybe...just maybe, like me...you need to hold onto it sometimes to survive the dark."

He opened his eyes and gazed at her, undisguised and open. Tears pooled as his eyes circled her face. "I'm not anyone's light, Teresa. I never have been. I'm the darkness, a curse - not light."

She stroked his cheek lovingly and he exhaled as a tear fell onto her hand. He sighed and shook his head, placing his hand on hers as he closed his eyes again. He took her hand and pressed a small kiss to its palm. He whispered, "I'm sorry."

"Jane-"

"I'm sorry," he repeated, louder.

He released her hold on him and stood up, took a long step back. He watched her as she knelt on the bed, defeat in her posture, her face. Then he saw her sit up straighter again, regard him with a defiant tilt of her chin.

"If you don't want this...okay, I can accept that. But don't tell me how I feel about you. Don't tell me how I see you is wrong. Because it isn't. You asked me a long time ago why I put up with you. You want to know why?"

"I close cases," he shrugged, attempting to lighten the mood.

She smiled, "Yeah, you do. But we both know that's not why I put up with you."

"Lisbon-"

He shook his head as panic began to set in but she continued, unafraid. "Because you bring happiness into my life. With all your crazy shenanigans, your refusal to follow the simplest of instructions, your plots and schemes and half-truths..." She smiled again and shook her head. "Every day I wake up and you're in my life I _know_ I'm going to smile. _Every. Single. Day._

"So don't tell me you don't bring light into my life. Even with how you've been treating me lately, you've still managed to do it. I don't know how the hell you have but you still manage to brighten a moment of my rotten day even if I'm mad at you for the other ninety-nine percent of it. If you want to leave then leave but don't tell me what you mean to me."

He said nothing for a long moment as he stared at her. His gaze drifted to his shoes as he sighed loudly. He brought his eyes back to her again slowly, ran them over her slowly before he spoke. "I-I don't know quite what to say to that," he finally admitted.

She coloured and shrugged. "You're not required to say anything back, it's alright."

To her surprise, he sat down on the bed next to her again and spoke softly but assuredly, "You have no idea what you mean to me too, Lisbon. No idea. I can't find the words for how much I care for you. And I'm...I'm sorry if you've ever doubted that."

"Thank you," she replied with a blush, "and now I'm not quite sure what to say."

He smiled warmly at her. "No one's ever said anything like that to me before," he said.

She shrugged, awkward now that she'd run her mouth in such a fashion and his rejection of her pass. "It's okay, Jane. Look...no harm done, right? I took a shot. You're not interested. It's okay. Just...just go. I'm gonna go eat a tub of Rocky Road and pretend I didn't just make a fool of myself."

"I should," he replied, nodding, staring at her like she was a puzzle he couldn't figure out. "But you were right. I-I don't want to leave. I just know that I should."

His eyes darkened and her pulse skyrocketed. Still kneeling, she took his right hand that was lying in his lap and moved it across to her hip. Took his other hand and pressed it against her opposing one. She moved closer to his body, looked up under her eyelashes as he continued to gaze at her. Sensing both fear and desire in him she began to unbutton his vest slowly, saw his Adam's apple bob as her fingers went to work. Anxiously, she unbuttoned his shirt and placed her right hand over his heart. She leant into him and kissed the centre of his chest, slipped her hands around his waist as she peppered kisses on his abdomen. She pressed her forehead against his bare skin and sighed as she hugged him tightly.

He said nothing as she continued and made no movement to initiate contact nor extricate himself from her hold on him. Frustrated, she pulled him further into her embrace and looped her arms around his neck. She began kissing him harder as her lips travelled upwards, nipped at his ear. After a minute she drew her head back, frowned at him until he opened his eyes. They were glassy and clouded and gradually he focused on her.

"Is it because of what happened to me?" she asked shyly, looking at her arms as she withdrew them to rest on his chest. Any confidence she had was shattered as he'd done nothing to encourage her. "Is it...is it because I'm so damaged now? That you really don't see me as the woman you've known all these years? You don't see me as someone who brings you light anymore, any form of happiness or comfort? That I'm not the same woman I was-"

"No!" he interrupted fiercely, catching his breath. He exhaled, his fingers flexing on her hipbones. "I just..." He licked his lips. "Well, you seem set on a course of action here and I..."

Nervously, "You don't want to?"

A short chuckle. "Precisely the opposite."

She smiled, linked her arms around his neck again. "So?"

He moved a hand to caress her face, tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. Tenderly, "It would be taking advantage of you."

Irritated, "Jane-"

"Lisbon, you cannot say that this is normal behaviour for you. It is absolutely not. You would never have done this if you hadn't been kidnapped. Not in a year of Sundays."

She opened her mouth to argue then shut it again. "Okay...okay...you might have a point. But I can say that I wanted this to happen before I was taken. So, what was your plan? To just sit there and...take it from me?"

He managed a smile. "I'd expect at some point soon my composure would run out and I'd be forced to engage."

She laughed, despite not wanting to do so. "Wow, well thanks for making a girl feel wanted."

His face changed from amusement to desire in a split second. His voice deep, "There is not a part of me who doesn't want you right at this moment." His fingers instinctively grasped her hips tighter, his pupils dilated.

She flushed with the heat of his gaze. "So take me." She shook her head. "I'm yours, Jane. You know I am. I have been for a long time."

His expression fought between wonderment and displeasure. "You were never meant to be mine. I'm...I'm the worst person in the world for you, Teresa."

"No, you're not. I meant what I said earlier. You know what I thought about in those nights I was in that room? You. Not always...not all of the time. But mainly."

She placed her hands on his cheeks. "I began to wonder if I'd ever see this face again. Began to wonder...wonder if I'd ever get the chance to tell all the things I kept inside. Began to wonder if you actually knew how I felt about you. Did I do too good a job at covering it up? Or was I too obvious? Did you think of me in the same way? Were you embarrassed for me? Were you just using me as a convenience? Was I part of your plan all along, just to make me feel special enough so I'd go along with your plans-"

"Believe me, you-you were never part of any plan," he cut in roughly. "This wasn't supposed to happen." He shook his head wildly and she moved her hands to his shoulders. He sniffed loudly. "But I-I couldn't help it," he shrugged. He let go of a breath. "I couldn't help myself," he said, softer. He gazed into her eyes. "I hate you a little for that sometimes, you know," he said, chuckling lightly.

She smiled back. "Well, I hate you sometimes too."

He caressed her cheek as he stared into her eyes. "But we can't do this, Teresa. We can't. It's something we can't come back from."

"I don't care. I don't care anymore, Jane. I could have died in that room. Or today. You could have too. We both could have died a hundred times since we've met. Neither of us knows what's in our future. Neither of us knows when the clock stops ticking."

"So, we just say to hell with the consequences further down the line and throw the rulebook away? That's your suggestion?"

She raised an eyebrow. "That's pretty much how you've acted since we've known each other, Jane."

He laughed through a sigh. "Not with us. Not...not with something like this."

She wrapped her arms around his neck, moved closer into his arms. He took a deep breath as he felt her breasts against his chest. Without another word, she closed her eyes and kissed his mouth, a soft press against his closed lips.

"Did that feel good?" she asked, playing with the hair at the nape of his neck.

"Just because it did-"

She kissed him again, surprising him before he closed his mouth. Her tongue darted inside briefly, fluttering against his own.

He moaned and engaged his tongue, brought his hand up to her face as she deepened the kiss further. He pulled back, breathless. "This is..."

"Nice?" she ventured with a smile, kissing him again.

He smiled against her lips as he parted his mouth willingly. He pressed his lips against hers and initiated a kiss in return, angling his head to explore her hot mouth. She gasped and reciprocated intensely, bringing his face closer and her body almost in his lap.

"I was going to say wrong," he said, drawing back again with dark hooded eyes filled with lust.

His eyes lingered on her before him, all plumped lips and tousled hair. "Shit," he added hoarsely.

 ** _Sacramento_**

 ** _Present day._**

"He's really not getting a deal?" Lisbon asked as they sat on the couch in the living room drinking tea.

Jane smiled as he sipped from his cup. "Nope. Well, not the one he wanted."

"How'd you manage that?"

"Let's just say he overreached and my patience ran out."

She nodded slowly. "He threatened to come after me, didn't he? Charge me with assault or something like that?"

He shrugged. "Doesn't matter. It's settled now. He gets immunity, protection until any trial testimony and after that, he's on his own. Still too much if you ask me but less than he wanted so guess it'll have to do."

"Thank you," she replied with a small smile. "Have to admit it feels good knowing he won't get everything he was hoping to get. So, what did he say exactly?"

"Brief synopsis? He met this General person at a gun show in Vegas as he stated before. He gave us the name of the event and who organised it. He said the General was a regular attendee by the impression he got as some of the people selling there knew him already-"

"So we have a name for him?" she cut in with some excitement.

"Hm, theoretically, yes."

Her shoulders slumped. "It's an alias."

He nodded. "We assume so. And Medina assumed the same and that he always preferred to be called 'General' when being spoken to. He made that clear from the outset." Jane rolled his eyes. "But the name he gave him initially was James Smith. And that's who the people from the show who recognised him knew him as too."

Now it was Lisbon's turn to roll her eyes. "James Smith, seriously? That's-"

"Just about the most common name you're going to find? Yeah, afraid so."

"All right. Can we get any further information from the stall holders about him? Did he make any purchases? Maybe there's a financial trail? And what about security footage from the event?"

He smiled briefly at the cop in her rising to the fore. "Van Pelt checked with those who organised the event. No footage exists anymore - they don't hold records that long. But Medina has given us some names that he remembered from the event. Rigsby and Van Pelt are going to check with them, see if they can shed any further light on what they know of Smith, how they met him and so on, anyone who might be close to him. They're also going to contact any weapons dealers registered there on that day too."

"Some of those people don't trust cops. It's possible they won't tell us anything even if they do remember him. It can be a tight community."

"Possible. We'll cross that bridge when we come to it if it looks like someone is holding back."

He slipped his hand into his inside jacket pocket and pulled out a folded sheet of white paper. He looked at her with concern. "We got a sketch of him according to Medina's description. You want to take a look?"

She nodded as she stared at the paper in his hand. "I-I never saw his face. At least...not that I recall."

With a slight shake of her hands, she took the sheet of paper off him and unfolded it slowly. Her eyes circled the image on the page before she frowned. "He looks..." She laughed faintly before she grimaced. "He looks a little like Paul Newman, doesn't he?" She shook her head.

Jane smiled. "There's a likeness. Towering Inferno era not Great Escape, certainly."

Absently, "He looks...kind if anything." She looked at Jane again in disbelief.

"We both know monsters come in all shapes and forms, Lisbon," he replied sympathetically. "Would make the job a whole lot easier if they had horns and carried pitchforks but also make it a whole lot less challenging, yes?" he smiled. More seriously, "He doesn't look familiar to you, then?"

She shook her head. "Just around the eyes. I'd know those eyes of his anywhere." She swallowed and folded the sheet again, placed it on the coffee table and pushed it away from her. She raised her cup to her lips and sipped her tea with a deep breath as she looked ahead again, lost in memories and nightmares.

"What else?" she said a second later, coming back to the present and turning her head towards Jane again.

"Ahm, Medina did mention that Volker would stop by to...to see you." He sighed and licked his lips, took a deep breath to keep the scorn from his tone. "Each day you were there he visited the observation room to..."

He reached for his cup to take a much needed long sip.

"To observe progress of my decline-" Lisbon finished for him.

Teeth clenched, "Yes."

"What else?"

He swallowed and shook his head. "Maybe you should read the statement yourself, Lisbon."

She nodded. Softly, "I'd rather you gave me a heads up on the bullet points. Not so clinical that way, you know, when I do read it."

He nodded and took a breath. "Okay." He looked at her again in such a way she raised her eyebrows and said, "I can take it, Jane. Whatever you tell me, it's okay."

"Volker removed the tapes and took them with him daily. So, there's that."

"Hardly a surprise, I'm sure the bastard watched them over and over. I take it when he was arrested-"

"No tapes of you were found, obviously. So he's stashed them somewhere safe, I assume."

"Or loaned them out to some other sick friends of his. Surprised he didn't just post them anonymously on the internet."

Jane pursed his lips at her comment and she nodded. "Of course. He still might do that when we talk to him depending on how hard we go after him."

"There is that possibility, I'm afraid. But if he did then he might leave some kind of digital trace that would lead us back to him. Presently all we have is Medina's testimony against him, he might determine it's not enough to get charges brought. Plus those tapes are like a secret treasure trove to him, Lisbon, they may be deemed too important to him personally for just anyone with a computer to watch."

She wrapped her hands around her cup and nodded, attempted to conceal the shake in her voice as she cleared her throat as she tried not to think about the mindless masses who could watch her fall from grace by merely clicking on a search button. Thinking about what Volker might have done while he watched them was disgusting enough.

She knew they could be deleted easily from mainstream viewing with some assistance from the FBI but the dark web was a place that was becoming ever more popular for perverted individuals' more twisted fantasies and viewing pleasures and was much harder to police. "Well, there's nothing that we can do about it if he does decide to release them. So, anything else?"

"Something interesting. The night that you...asked for the heroin. Medina states that Volker and Smith had some kind of disagreement."

She frowned. "About what?"

"He didn't know exactly but that he was certain it was about you. He said that the two of them were going at it in the observation room shortly after Smith injected you. He didn't hear much but he said it sounded like Smith was having some kind of issue with Volker's orders."

Surprised, "Really? But why?"

"The more I think about it the more it makes sense. Let me ask you this. If you knew all along this was Volker then what is the reason for him letting you go?"

She shrugged. "I-I don't know. I've been thinking about the same thing myself. He hates me enough to kidnap, inject me with heroin and then...and then he just lets me go? It doesn't make sense."

Jane nodded. "Precisely. Makes more sense that Smith released you against Volker's explicit orders."

She drew her head back. "So you're suggesting Smith actually saved my life in the end?"

"I wouldn't go that far – he was responsible for drugging you daily, Lisbon. And by your own account, it sounds like he had no issue with doing so. If anything, it sounds like he enjoyed his work a little too much. And he didn't exactly run into the ER with you in his arms, did he? It was mostly luck you found your way there. Medina said that Smith ordered him to take you there and that you were still pretty out of it by the time you arrived and that you could barely walk in a straight line. He also told him to drop you off before the hospital's security cameras could track the vehicle that was loaned to him. So Smith was still protecting himself and his team. He gave you a fighting chance of survival, that's all."

"I still don't understand why he'd want to give me even that."

Jane shook his head as his shoulders slumped, "Neither do I, presently. I was hoping perhaps you might recall something that night that made him go up against Volker."

She exhaled loudly as she pondered. "I-I can't remember any more than I've told you already, Jane. But Volker _would_ have wanted me dead, that makes sense," she stated after a moment.

"And more than that he'd have wanted you to know that he was the one responsible for it. Why else go to all the trouble of setting this up and then miss out on the final coup de grace?"

She nodded. " _That_ I agree with. Nothing he'd have liked more than to see me brought to my knees and for me to know he was the one who'd accomplished it. He'd have most probably wanted to toy with me for a while more after that night, watch me beg again and again for my dose like a starving dog before finally putting me down and watch the lethal injection being pumped into my veins."

Jane closed his eyes at the imagery. "Yes," he admitted feebly.

She got up from the couch and paced back and forth, a line between her eyes. "If Smith let me go for, I dunno, finally finding his conscience or whatever...then why is he still killing these other women still?"

Jane picked up their cups and took them to the kitchen to wash them out. "That's the question, isn't it?"

"One of them," she said with an eye roll. "This whole thing is making less and less sense."

He chuckled faintly. "Well, there is one good thing that might come out of it. If Volker and Smith had a falling out-"

"Then Volker may be willing to roll over on him now."

"Mhm...although-"

"He'll want an immunity deal if that's the case," she finished for him.

He put the cups on the drainer and turned to face her. "Or worse."

"Worse?"

He ran his tongue over his lower lip. "You never asked how long Volker's sentence is."

"Well, I assumed with all those murders he had carried out-"

"All that could be proven against him was kidnapping Marvin Pettigrew, Lisbon. Everything else..."

He shrugged, "Everything else he'd covered his tracks too well. And Marvin's mother was too afraid to allow her son to testify against Volker when it came to trial. More than likely she'd been threatened by Volker's people. But no one was able to prove it. And...and to be perfectly honest, the boy was traumatised enough when she got him back. I-I couldn't blame her for her protectiveness of him."

Lisbon stumbled forward to face him. "So just how long did he get?"

Jane looked at his shoes. Quietly, "Three years."

"Three years?!"

He faced her again. "It was all that could be proven against him. And I-"

"You were so goddamned busy hunting Red John you didn't give a damn how long _he_ got!" she bit back.

"That's not fair," he snapped. "If I'd known he was responsible for kidnapping you-"

"That shouldn't matter!" she yelled. "It shouldn't matter how personal a case is! Being in Law Enforcement means you go after everyone equally! You should have gone after him for everything you could!"

"Chrissakes, we did! And where the hell were you when all this was going on, huh?! Off licking your wounds somewhere under a rock?!"

She stepped back in shock and he shook his head a second later. "I-I'm sorry. I-I didn't mean that. Lisbon, I'm sorry."

Angrily, "It's okay. If that's how you really feel-"

He stepped forward. Softly, "It's not. Of course, it's not. It's just you made it sound like I didn't give a damn and, believe me, I did. We all did. And you of all people should know that."

She breathed deeply as she nodded. "I-I know. I'm-I'm sorry too. I just can't believe that he only received a few years after everything he did..." She drew another deep breath. "When is his parole date?"

"Still a year away currently. But if he helps us catch Smith and the AG agrees to immunity for anything he tells us in relation to that-"

"Then he could get released immediately."


	26. Chapter 26

Chapter 26 – Passion

 _ **Sacramento.**_

 _ **Around twelve months earlier.**_

She kissed him again, increasing the fierceness and the urgency. Helpless and unwilling to fight against the passion bubbling up inside him any longer he kissed her back, devouring her lips in a series of soft frenzied pecks. The pecks turned slower and longer as his hands crept under the jersey at her hips. He exhaled into a kiss as he felt the softness of her skin, its warmth welcoming him and curling around every nerve ending like a blanket. It was as if he'd finally found somewhere safe to rest after battling through an incessant snowstorm in a long cold winter.

She shed the jacket from his shoulders, the vest following it quickly. He disengaged his fingers only long enough to cast them to the floor. She pulled him forward by his shirt lapels until he lay almost on top of her as they kissed. He cast his shirt as he kissed her neck and nuzzled her collarbone. Her hands went to his hair and she closed her eyes as he kissed her stomach through the softness of her jersey. He pulled it up at her belly and deposited a hot kiss to its centre with a low moan, his fingers clutched to the hem of her top as he moved it slowly upwards. She shuffled on the bed to allow him to draw it higher and over the soft mounds of her breasts. He stopped and admired them enclosed in a functional white cotton bra, unable to stop a smile forming on his lips. He licked his lips as he laid a palm on top of one, his fingers grazing it gently in a slow lazy pattern. He squeezed it softly and smiled when Lisbon arched her back with a moan and he felt the nipple harden under his touch.

Lisbon drew her legs around his waist as he kissed her mouth again reverently as he continued to stroke her breast. "I need to say something," he whispered quietly. "Before...well, before..."

She opened her eyes and looked at him, afraid to see regret or a change of heart. He kissed her again instead with ferocity and squeezed her breast lovingly.

After she nodded he said, "That thing I said in your office before I pretended to shoot you..."

Another nod. Another kiss as he slipped his hand under the cup of her bra. She inhaled sharply as his fingers ghosted over her nipple excruciatingly slowly. "You know I remembered saying it," he stated with a crack in his voice, slipping his other hand under the other cup as he spoke.

She managed a nod through a soft moan as he dipped his head to kiss her newly exposed breast with a kiss so tender and full of love it made her heart skip a beat.

He drew her into a lingering kiss and embrace as he pulled her forward to rid her of her jersey and her bra. She linked her arms around his neck and kissed him. "I figured you did," she replied in a whisper, lying back down again and bringing him to hover over her once more.

His gaze strayed to her practically naked form before him and he swallowed hard before a shy smile covered his face. He brought his eyes back to her face and stroked her cheek gently. "I-I meant it," he stuttered. He took a deep controlling breath. Louder, " _Mean_ it."

Lost for words she nodded mutely as a tear rolled down her cheek. "O-Okay," she finally managed.

He smiled fully at her then like a man finally released from carrying a terrible burden for years. She kissed him and he kissed her back for seconds. "This is still a terrible idea," he said, drawing back for air with tousled hair and wet plump lips but wearing a smile he couldn't stop.

She grinned like a Cheshire cat. "We're not stopping, though, are we?"

In response, he lowered his face to her chest and brought his two hands up to cup her breasts firmly. As he stroked them generously with his fingers and thumbs he licked each nipple. He shook his head as he continued to stare at her all the while. "Nope," he said finally, biting down gently on one hardened peak. She writhed with a low moan and closed her eyes as he continued tantalising her with his lips and extracting pleasure, her fingers drawn to his hair again as she teased his blond curls around her fingers.

As he kissed her lower and lower he became hungrier for every piece of flesh he touched with the tip of his tongue. She sensed him getting lost in the sensations her body provided him, could feel any semblance of uncertainty in what they were doing slowly drift away and, in its place, give way to nothing but a ravenous need for more.

Seeing Patrick Jane so lacking in control soon ignited Lisbon's impatience and she grabbed his head and kissed his mouth deliriously and ardently just as he arrived at her navel. Caught by the element of surprise she flipped him over onto his back easily and kissed him again just as hard. He moaned and brought his hand to the back of her neck, returning the kiss with an equal amount of fervour as his fingers became lost in the soft tendrils of her hair.

She planted kisses on his chest as he got his breath back and unbuttoned his belt and pants as he lay wide-eyed looking at the ceiling as she continued to stoke fires over his body with every kiss. When she slipped her hand into the waistband of his boxers he inhaled gruffly and stared at her wildly. When she first touched him in one long slow stroke he groaned and fought for a controlling breath. She smiled and kissed him on his belly as her free hand busied itself with dragging his pants down from one hip and then the other. She was stroking him more firmly now and then brought two fingers to her mouth briefly, sucking on them slowly to wet them. She stared at him while doing so and smiled mischievously upon seeing him so discombobulated and apparently incapable of speech. His eyes slammed shut when she started up again with her hand, moistness assisting in her making the strokes slicker and faster. "Jesus, Lisbon!" he finally said in a tone that he wasn't sure was a plead for more, or a plead for help.

"You _can_ call me, Teresa, Patrick," she responded quickly with a smile.

He laughed breathlessly. That stopped when he saw her lick her lips and move her hair to one side of her neck purposefully as she pulled his penis free from his boxers. As she straightened her shoulders he moved off the pillow quickly. "No," he said, shaking his head and grabbing her cheek. "Not-not that," he frowned, reddening slightly as he glanced at his boxers.

"I don't mind," she said with a furrow of her brow, "I kinda like it, actually, weird as that might sound."

He tilted his head to the side. Embarrassed, "Well, that's-that's good to know but uh...not...not tonight, okay?"

"Why? You can't tell me any man doesn't like _that_ ," she frowned.

How was he meant to explain that that particular sexual act currently only reminded him of Lorelei. Lacking the necessary drive initially to follow through on their kisses he'd closed his eyes and allowed her to do what was necessary to become ready. She'd felt sorry for him, said that it must have been because he was so nervous. Disgusted was more appropriate he had said to himself at the time. So Lisbon performing the same 'move' had now lost any of its former appeal and filled him more with self-hatred than a surge of passion. And that her completing it would also somehow sully and cheapen what they were currently expressing to each other.

He ignored her question and kissed her instead slowly, reinforcing the love he felt for her, getting lost in her lips again. Then without warning he surprised her and pulled on her ankles suddenly with a grin, making her lie flat on her back again.

She laughed and wrapped her arms around him as they continued to kiss. One grind of her hips against him hardened him immediately and he dived in for another kiss, unable to get enough of her mouth. But the incessant cry from his groyne began to override any thoughts of a slow seduction. He wrestled his pants down his hips in an awkward shimmy-shammy that made her giggle, her quick feet helping slip them to his knees. Kissing still, he pulled them off with one hand after toeing off his shoes. He kissed her breasts as he removed his socks and boxers rapidly. She slipped off her panties furiously as impatience got the better of both of them. They moaned together as their lips joined again following the removal of clothing.

As he stared at her as if awestruck anxiousness suddenly washed across her face. He frowned, drawing back on an elbow, a question on his face.

She glanced at the nightstand and blushed.

"You need to...uh...there's some in the drawer there," she said, her face reddening further.

"Oh," he nodded with a shy smile. "Of-of course." He was embarrassed he'd been so caught up in the moment he hadn't thought of birth control himself as he should have.

As he fetched one quickly and unwrapped it she added, "Normally...ah...well, I'm on the pill but...but obviously there's been a gap and...and with the injections I received in that room-"

He stopped and gaped at her in concern. "I-I hadn't even considered...damn, I-I should have, though. Are you...?"

"Everything is clear, no HIV, nothing like that...but I need to get retested in a week or so. Make sure, you know?"

He nodded seriously. "Of course." He looked at the condom in his hand, was only too well aware of his hardness against her softness. "Um..."

Nervously, "You-you still want to?"

He smiled slowly at her. "There's nothing I want more right now than to know what being with you feels like. And of all the reasons why we shouldn't be doing this _that_ is not one of them."

She swallowed thickly with relief. "Wow. I..." She smiled as a tear escaped. "Okay, then."

He grinned and they kissed again as he slipped the condom on. Then she took charge and fondled him between their bodies before centring him against her core. He could smell her arousal and knew she was ready as he took himself in hand and rubbed against her with a measured and teasing stroke. He licked his lips, imagining the warm welcome of her body.

Unable to wait any longer he pushed inside her slowly and gratefully, an explosion of colour hitting his mind like a rainbow as he plunged deeper. Suddenly it felt like he'd been living in a black and white world and had just seen colour for the first time in years. Everything felt brighter as he began to thrust gently. He felt alive and unanchored, free. He felt happiness and relief and fear and a thousand other emotions he couldn't pretend to decipher. As he kissed her tenderly with a tear running down his cheek as they continued to make love another thought occurred to him. A thought that was perhaps more dangerous than any other.

Perhaps he was capable of loving someone again, after all.

* * *

 _ **Sacramento.**_

 _ **Present Day.**_

Lisbon pushed her dinner plate away from her, the piece of chicken on it only half eaten along with a smattering of vegetables. "Sorry, I'm not hungry," she offered with a sigh, "it was delicious, though, thanks."

"My pleasure. You know the AG may not want to offer him a deal in the first place," Jane responded.

"If he is able to deliver this Smith person or whatever the hell his name is then you know he'll agree, Jane. Previous crimes against Volker can't be proven – the massacre of that village, the murder of Amanda Shaw. And so on and so on. So that just leaves my abduction and torture.

"If Volker had absolutely nothing to do with the other women taken and presumably been murdered by Smith then it's a done deal. Smith is the imminent threat now - not Volker. If Smith takes another woman – if he hasn't already – then that's where the focus will be. On capturing him as soon as possible, not making Tommy Volker pay for something that may not even stand up in court. Medina is the only witness to Volker's crimes against me and he's hardly beyond reproach himself. And because I didn't even see Volker myself it's not like I can add any weight to his testimony."

She rubbed the bridge of her nose. "It's more logical to focus on Smith - he's currently the one who is more dangerous to the public. That's how the AG will see it."

Jane cleared their plates away in abject silence, unable to contradict her reasoning. "Well, don't despair just yet, Lisbon," he said with some blatantly fake cheeriness. "We may not need Volker's help at all. One of the other leads may pan out first."

"Even if we don't need him to catch Smith he still walks in a year."

"Hm, yes." He loaded the plates in the dishwasher.

She came to stand beside him and put the kettle on. After a second or so she stated, "You don't seem all that upset that Volker will walk in a year."

"What? Of course, I am. I don't like the idea of him getting away with any of this!"

He closed the dishwasher and switched it on.

"Okay," she said, getting Jane's favourite 'apartment' cup (a dark green version of his 'CBI' cup) and a mug for herself from a cupboard overhead. "Just in case you were plotting any revenge coming his way when he's released, I wanted to check."

He hesitated before he took the milk from the refrigerator and she went in for the kill. "I knew it! You _are_ plotting revenge when he leaves prison, aren't you?"

He closed the fridge door and set the jug of milk down on the countertop beside her. "I wasn't..." He shrugged with a sigh.

Annoyed, "But you are now. When you learned he was responsible for what happened to me. Is that why you didn't mention when his sentence was up until you absolutely had to?"

"He shouldn't get away with what he did to you, Teresa. It's not right and you know that better than anyone."

"I know it's not right! But sometimes the criminals don't get punished for what they do, Jane! It's life."

He raised his voice. "Well, I'm not accepting that so easily. And certainly not in his case!"

She got in his face. "No! I won't have this. Not again."

"What are you going on about?"

"You know damn well what I'm talking about. Don't play the fool. Vengeance. Your...sweet spot, if you will."

He scoffed. "Oh, please, don't be so ridiculous. And if you think there was anything sweet about hunting Red John-"

"How is it ridiculous?! Huh? Tell me! Where's the difference? You want to kill someone because they went after a woman you-"

She closed her mouth abruptly.

He smirked. "No, please do go on, finish your thought. Though I doubt you have the nerve."

"Don't change the subject!"

" _You_ brought _that_ subject up!"

Anger flared between them as they stared at each other. She took a step back with a deep breath. "Let me be clear, Jane," she said calmly but determinedly, "I do not want Volker to be your next target for revenge. I doubt very much your wife and daughter wanted that life for you and I-"

"What my wife and daughter wanted for me is none of your damn business," he remarked coolly.

She squared up to him again. "Fine. You tell yourself whatever you want. But _I_ am telling _you_ that I do not want you to go after Volker like you did Red John. He went after _me_ , not you. It's my call, not yours and I'm plenty capable of it myself if I want to kill the son of a bitch. Understand? Do not use Volker as a way for you to get the revenge you think you were robbed of."

Irately, "Oh, so now you want to talk about what happened with Red John, do you? It's a little late for that now, Lisbon. I needed you months ago to discuss that particular subject. Not now. But while we're on the matter, yes, I _was_ damn well robbed of it!"

With hurt and annoyance covering his expression, he turned away from her and marched off to his bedroom.

* * *

He put his head in his hands as he sat on the end of his bed. His body shook from the heated conversation he'd just had with Lisbon. "I really am screwing this up," he said to himself. "And I'm allowing her to screw it up too."

A gentle knock came to his bedroom door seconds later. "You still want some tea?" she asked quietly from behind the closed door.

He smiled a little at that.

A second later she raised her voice. "Come on, Jane, open the damn door, my fingers are getting burned here with this peace gesture I'm trying to make!"

His smile widened and he got off his bed with a sigh and opened the door. "I do have trays, you know," he stated still wearing a small smile and looking at the two beverages in her hands. He took his tea off her and she flexed her fingers before resting hers around her mug. He motioned to the bed. "You want to come in?"

Her eyes widened immediately.

He chuckled, "I just meant the room, not get under the covers. But you're welcome to do that too if you're cold."

She rolled her eyes and walked purposefully across the room. "Jackass."

She sat down on the bed and took a sip of tea. After a second of silence, she asked, "How many cups of tea do you think you've drunk in your lifetime?"

He sat down in a chair opposite her and frowned. "Hm. Good question. Let me think about it and get back to you."

"You really think you can recall every cup of tea you've drunk in your entire life?" she mocked.

"It would be quite the feat of memory, wouldn't it?" he replied with some amusement.

She chuckled, "Yeah. Not to mention a pretty pointless exercise, too."

The conversation idled again after a few seconds. "Well, that was my ice breaker. Your turn," she said gloomily after the silence between them became unbearable.

He set his cup down on the floor and leant back in the chair, resting one hand on one of its arms as fingers from his other ran along his mouth. Softly, "This isn't easy, is it? Us? Now?"

She placed her cup on the nightstand. "Was it ever easy?"

"I'd like to think so. Well...at least marginally less stressful than currently. Don't you agree?"

"I guess," she sighed. "Do you-do you think it was because we had sex? Is that why we're biting each other's heads off every disagreement we have now?"

"Sexual tension, you mean?" He studied her openly. "I'd say there was an element of that to it, wouldn't you?"

She reddened and reached for her cup. "I-I don't know."

"You don't find me attractive any longer?" he continued with a knowing smile.

She got off the bed quickly. "Okay, coming in here to sort things out was a bad idea, obviously. Let's just start afresh tomorrow again after a night's sleep." She began to ramble on, "I-I saw that it was Jessica Wells' funeral service tomorrow in the newspaper. I-I know I didn't know her but I'd like to go, anyway. Pay my respects."

"Understandable you feel a certain affinity with her. I'll come along with you."

"Jane, you don't have to do that. I'm not going to disappear on you. You _can_ let me out of your sight."

He quirked an eyebrow. "Well, you can hardly blame me for being a tad skittish where you're concerned, can you? But actually, I was thinking it would give me another opportunity to speak to her husband. And other family members. We know the likelihood is Volker is not involved in her murder but if Smith is nothing but a hired hand-"

"Then reasonable to assume someone close to her hired him to kill Jessica."

"It's always the husband, right?"

"Not always," she said softly as she looked him in the eye.

He smiled sadly. "Good as place a start as anywhere else, though."

"I thought you discounted him."

"I discounted Volker too, initially. Maybe...maybe my judgement was impaired when I spoke to her husband before, too. Seeing her...seeing her in that room and what she'd been subjected to..." He shook his head, "Perhaps I was more affected by what I saw than I wanted to let on."

She blushed slightly before she injected teasing into her tone. "Wow, are you actually saying you might not be perfect, after all?"

He smiled broadly at her. "Just don't tell the others and ruin my reputation as chief know it all, all right?"

She smiled back and nodded, tension ebbing away as they felt a detente being reached again.

As she made towards the door he stood up quickly and took her wrist gently to stop her from leaving. Sincerely, "Look, not to spoil this truce we've got going on here but...but we need to find a way to sustain it."

She shrugged, "What do you suggest?"

He laughed softly. "I have absolutely no idea. But-but I want you to know that I'm on your side in this, Teresa. All I want to do is help you but you need to meet me halfway and allow me to do just that. You need to stop shutting me out. And, in return, if you don't want Volker punished like the scumbag he is I'll try to respect that, as hard as that might be for me. I want us to be friends again. Best friends like we were once. And I need you to know you _can_ still trust me and that I have absolutely no intention of hurting you. You don't need to worry about that anymore, I swear."

Tears pooled in her eyes. Despondently, "I'm not afraid of you hurting me, Jane. I'm afraid of hurting you. Again. And much worse than before."

She smiled sadly at him as she walked through the door.

* * *

 **A/N: Apologies for the lack of plot development in this chapter. Next one I'll try and do much better.**


	27. Chapter 27

**A/N: Hey there, I'm back! Apologies for the long break but had a few health issues in my home life that left it impossible to concentrate on any kind of writing (or living, really, tbh). Hopefully, things are on a better track now (fingers crossed) so I should be able to update more often once again.**

 **I've started with Broken to ease myself in gently but I'll be getting to Reconnect next week as it comes to its conclusion.**

 **Also, for those who are interested, I'm planning a sequel to my story Deception in the next few weeks. I'm going to be attempting to write a chapter every day for a month to finish it (let's see how that goes!) in the hope it'll inspire me to write more often. (Got this idea from the wonderfully encouraging Leafenclaw who did it herself with her brilliant story Chasing Storms, go read it if you haven't already). Can't say my story will be as good as that one but hopefully, it'll be enjoyable. I'm looking forward to penning it & getting back to that little universe again. (Btw, I've finally revised Deception recently, mostly for grammar, if you want to give it a quick read through first).**

* * *

Chapter 27 - Uncovered

 _ **Sacramento.**_

 _ **Around twelve months earlier.**_

Jane looked at his reflection in the bathroom mirror, his fingers instinctively moving towards his bruised and plumped lips. He turned his head a fraction and assessed the small red bite on his collarbone. His mouth curled into a smile of its own accord. He always knew that hidden beneath that aura of officious respectability and outward prudery Teresa Lisbon would be a passionate lover. Or, perhaps, he just brought that side out in her. He chuckled inwardly at his egotism then drew his gaze back up to his face.

As he stared at himself the smile soon fell from his lips. One thought ran through his head over and over _. Okay._ _What now?_

* * *

 _"_ I folded your clothes for you," Lisbon said as soon as he re-entered the bedroom, gesturing to the chair in the corner.

He nodded as he pursed his lips. "Thank you."

She was wearing her football jersey again and was sitting up with her back to the headboard. She quickly averted her eyes at the sight of him in his boxer shorts back towards her nightstand clock. "It's late. You...you should be going, I-I guess."

He frowned and raised an eyebrow. It took him a second to respond, "Oh. Ah...okay then."

He quickly pulled on his pants then stopped as he grabbed his shirt. Turning towards her again, "You want me to go?"

She shrugged, blushing, "If you like."

He took a step towards her, shirt in hand. "Teresa, do you want me to stay or go?"

She blinked quickly under his scrutiny. "It's up to you, Jane."

He sat down on the bed next to her and ran a hand through his hair. "I-I'm not quite sure what I should do here, Lisbon. This is...well, this is all very new."

"You think?" she offered, a hint of a smile playing on her lips.

He smiled back, fractionally more at ease. "So it's not just me who's finding this all a little hard to handle, then?"

She shook her head. "I know I wanted...well...I wanted _that_ to happen but I hadn't really thought much about the _after_ part."

He nodded with a blush as he looked to his lap. "Yeah, I wasn't thinking so much about that myself at the time."

He took a deep breath and looked at her again. "You okay?" he asked softly. "I mean..."

"I don't regret it if that's what you're asking me."

He nodded, still looking at her.

"D-do you?" she asked him in a whisper.

He appeared to think for a second as he continued to stare at her. Then he shook his head slowly. "No. I could never regret what just happened between us."

"But?" she said, her voice hoarse.

He sighed, "But I don't know what comes next. Or what should come next. Or if it was the right thing to do or the wrong thing to do. Or if we both just lost our minds. I'm not sure about any of that. I don't know where we go from here."

"Okay."

He smiled faintly. "Okay? That's all you have to say?"

"Well, if it helps any I don't know the answer to those questions either."

He looked at the shirt bunched in his hands. "Then maybe I should stay and we try to figure some stuff out."

"I-I think I'd like that."

* * *

They lay facing each other in the dark moments later. Minutes earlier they couldn't get enough of devouring each other's flesh and now they seemed afraid to instigate touch. Jane tentatively cupped Lisbon's cheek and stroked it gently. He smiled as it warmed beneath his fingers. "Hey," he whispered.

She moved towards him and placed a hand on his bare waist with a shy smile. "Hi."

He brought his lips towards hers and kissed her slowly. She made the quietest moaning sound that made him kiss her again before he drew back from her. "Sorry, we're supposed to be talking."

"You started it," she said with a smile.

He laughed gently. "You have very kissable lips, though, Agent Lisbon. So you should take half the blame."

"Oh, really?"

He pecked them again. "Yep."

Moments later, her smile faded. "So what you said just now...you really don't regret what happened?" she asked him. "Because I know it complicates things. For you, especially."

"It does that," he agreed readily. "But no. No, I don't."

"I'm glad. I'd have hated it if you had."

He turned on his back but took her hand and held it in his across his stomach. He said nothing for a second but rubbed his thumb across her knuckles. She allowed him the time to gather his thoughts, a pensive frown pervading his expression.

"What I told you before," he started in a whisper, "about...about what happened with Lorelei..."

He stopped talking and gauged her reaction, noticed the slight intake of breath and sudden tenseness in her posture. "You want me to continue?" he asked.

"Yes. I don't know where this is going but it's obviously important for you to say it. Go on."

"I wasn't being entirely truthful with you," he admitted. "I told you that I switched my emotions off and...well...you know the rest."

She swallowed, "But you-you didn't? You felt something with her? Emotionally, I mean?"

He laughed softly then turned his body towards her again. He brought her hand to his lips and kissed it gently as he stared at her. "You're right and you're wrong. I didn't switch off my emotions. The truth is...the truth is I didn't have to. I didn't have to make a conscious effort to do anything, Teresa. Being with her that way...I just felt...nothing."

She frowned, confused.

"At the time I considered it a lucky happenstance. That it required no effort on my part to go through the motions. No emotions to deal with whatsoever at the time or afterwards. And, I guess, that's why I didn't consider what happened back then that big a deal. That sleeping with her meant so little to me that I can't get worked up about it like you do. It was meaningless. Utterly meaningless."

He caressed her shoulder lightly and spoke to a spot just beyond her eyeline. "Then...just...just recently...I began to wonder if it really was a stroke of luck. Or if it was the opposite. I began to wonder if-"

"You were permanently that way. That it wasn't possible for you to feel some kind of emotional bond anymore in the same circumstances. No matter who you were with."

He caught her eyes. Earnestly, "Yes. I was unsure if I was broken beyond repair in that regard. That I'd build up so high a wall to protect myself from those kinds of feelings that nothing and no one could make me tear it down. That even if I..."

He licked his lips then he smiled through a blush, "And I guess the jack is well and truly out of its box now so I may as well say it – that even if we somehow came together like we just did one day – then I'd struggle with finding the emotions that being with you should instil in me. And instil _in_ you."

Tears gathered in her eyes and she kissed him tenderly. She caught her breath before a bright smile crept over her lips. "Patrick Jane, is that your long winded way of asking me if it was good for me too?"

He laughed immediately as a tear rolled down his cheek. He sniffed, "I guess it was."

She put her arms around his neck and moved into his embrace, his hands working their way around to her back to pull her closer. They kissed slowly and he held onto her tighter. "Thank you," he whispered into her ear. "Thank you for making me _feel_ again, Teresa."

"You made me feel alive again too," she uttered quietly as they hugged, holding onto him firmly.

* * *

 _ **Sacramento.**_

 _ **Present Day.**_

"You really didn't have to come," Lisbon said quietly as they got out of Jane's car at Alexandria Cemetery the following morning. Sunlight filtered through the trees scoring white lines across the manicured lawns and bouncing off the tombstones either side of them.

Jane tugged on his suit jacket and strolled purposefully to the funeral service a few feet away. "Because it's here, you mean?" he asked.

"It's got to be tough for you coming here."

He glanced around him. Evenly, "It's just a place like any other, Lisbon."

"Have you been here since Red John?"

He licked his lips. "Yes. Once."

"So it's not just a place then, is it?"

He sighed and stopped walking to look at her. Then his gaze extended further as he stuck his hands in his pockets. "I thought it might help me deal with it. Help me...find some kind of closure."

"And?"

He scoffed quietly before setting his eyes on her again. "Come on, service is going to end soon. We better hurry up."

* * *

The three young children in the front row seated in white chairs caught Lisbon's eyes immediately as she and Jane hung about at the back of Jessica Wells' funeral service. Ranging in age from four to seven two boys and one girl sat quietly staring at their mother's casket. She had been older but her brother Jimmy had just been the eldest child's age when they'd lost their mother. He'd been living day to day pretty much since without any direction and guilt washed over that she couldn't have done a better job in taking over his upbringing. Being twelve herself she didn't consider a good enough excuse. No matter how unreasonable that was.

"You all right?" Jane asked quietly, nudging her shoulder.

It was only then she realised tears were streaming down her cheeks. She brushed them off quickly. "Fine," she maintained as she stared ahead, sniffing.

He was eyeing her curiously out of the corner of his eye and she could understand that reaction perfectly. She had been to plenty of funerals as a cop and had rarely shed a tear. But this new version of herself was a cry baby now, apparently. She had to get a better grip of herself, she told herself firmly. She had to toughen up. The question was _how?_

* * *

Jeremy Wells saw Jane as he shook hands after the ceremony and, after his sister offered to take care of his children, walked towards him. "Mr Jane," the black-haired man in his late thirties asked, his demeanour somewhat frazzled, "has-has there been a development?"

Jane nodded to Lisbon. Smoothly, "This is my colleague Teresa Lisbon," he stated, "she's working with me on your wife's murder."

Lisbon swallowed hard. It wasn't exactly a lie but Jane had made her sound more of a cop than she was now. "I'm sorry for your loss," she said sincerely, shaking Wells' hand.

Distracted, "Thank you." He asked Jane again, "Do you have someone in custody? Is that why you're here?"

Lisbon noticed Jane was distracted too as his gaze kept flitting to the crowd of mourners behind Jessica's husband. "I'm afraid not," Jane eventually replied. "Would you excuse me for a moment, though? My colleague would like to ask you some further questions. Just routine, I assure you."

Lisbon gaped as Jane stepped away and made his way to the group he'd been watching at the centre of the funeral goers without a glance back. While his erratic behaviour during interviews was commonplace when they'd worked together she was severely out of practice currently and was surprised by it. A wave of familiarity washed over her as she had a sudden urge to throttle him for abandoning her. But attached to that violent urge something else stirred in her. She felt a frisson of excitement and a sense of belonging too. For the first time in what seemed like forever, she felt like the ground was no longer shifting beneath her feet.

"Yes, Agent?" Jeremy Wells asked her solemnly. "What can I help you with?"

She eyed her former consultant knowingly as he spoke to the woman looking after Jessica's children then turned her attention back to Wells. With an air of professionalism she thought was long gone, "Sorry, Mr Wells. Yes, just some details I'd just like to clear up with you."

* * *

"So?" Jane asked as they arrived back at his car, "Get anything from him?"

She raised an eyebrow. "He didn't have anything to do with Jessica's murder. But you always knew that, didn't you?"

"I had thought so initially but I admit I was beginning to doubt myself. I really should have known better. No harm to make sure you agree with my assessment, though. What did you ask him about, by the way?"

"Questions I already knew the answers to just by reading his initial interview notes. No strange behaviour he noticed in her before her disappearance. No slip ups."

"Hmm."

"You wanted me to feel like a cop again," she stated.

He shrugged with a smirk. "I just wanted to talk to his sister without his interference."

"His sister?" she frowned.

He nodded, glancing at the woman who was shepherding her niece and nephews into a long black limousine a short distance away.

Lisbon looked in her direction. "You think she had something to do with Jessica's murder?"

"I do. I noticed it at the ceremony. She's entirely too happy about looking after those children."

"Jane, she's probably just helping her brother out at this hard time."

"No. It's more than that. She's delighted, Lisbon. Glad that his wife is out of the picture."

"What are you getting at? Some kind of...incestuous relationship?" she whispered as she made a face.

"Nothing quite like that, thankfully. It's not her brother she cares about. Not really. At least not anymore. It's his children. She's older than him, right?

Lisbon regarded the woman again. "Mid-forties, I'd guess. Yeah, why?"

"She's unmarried and has no children. Jessica had what she never managed to have. And she didn't approve of Jessica. You've read her background. She was a schoolteacher but her husband helped and encouraged her to become that. Provided money for her studies to make it a reality. He loved her, made a life with her. His sister and he were close growing up but Jessica pushed a wedge between them. His sister is a control freak. She controlled him as a child but he got out of her shadow when he met his wife. Margo Wells didn't think Jessica was worthy of her brother. Perhaps no one would have been but especially not her. And now she's been given the chance to control his children. Did you notice Jessica's parents at the funeral?"

"I didn't, no. You had me talking to the husband, remember?"

Jane smiled faintly before he continued, "Well, her father was wearing a black suit about two sizes too small for him. Shoes worn and old socks with a hole in one of them. Mother's dress was in style perhaps three years ago. They were wearing their normal funeral 'attire' taken out of mothballs."

"So Jessica was from a poor background."

"Yes."

"But...why Jane? Even if his sister hired Smith then why now? What was the trigger? And why would she hire someone to do that, of all things, to Jessica?"

"Why now? That I don't know. But, like you said, there must have been a trigger. And perhaps she didn't know what he was going to do to Jessica. She might have just hired him to make her disappear and didn't ask questions about what would happen to her beforehand. Remember, we found Jessica entirely by accident."

"It's thin as theories go."

"Yeah, it is. But not the first time I've been right on less. And I'm certain that woman is guilty."

"We should bring her in for questioning. If she didn't know what she was signing up for she might roll over on Smith pretty quickly."

"I'll talk to Cho about it in the morning. See what Van Pelt can dig up about her beforehand. Let's have all the cards ready before we do anything." He watched the limousine drive out of the cemetery. "She's going nowhere right now. She has everything she wants."

* * *

They got into the car and rolled down their windows. "God, it's hot today," Lisbon said.

"Yeah," Jane agreed, shucking off his jacket. As she went to buckle her seatbelt he asked, "Wanna go for a drive? We have nothing more to do until tomorrow."

"Volker," Lisbon stated quietly with apprehension as she looked at her knees.

Silence hung in the air for a moment, only the sound of birdsong in the air.

As he started the engine, Jane declared cheerfully, "All right then, road trip it is."

"Hey, I never agreed to that!"

"Driver's prerogative," he replied with a wink.

* * *

"Beautiful, huh?" Jane proposed as he breathed in the saltiness of the ocean's breeze. He was standing just behind the shoreline, his shirtsleeves rolled up and hands in pockets.

"Nice to feel that breeze for sure," Lisbon nodded beside him. She'd left her jacket in the car and wore a white blouse that billowed in the wind accompanied by dark blue jeans.

She eyed Jane sideways, a gentle smile playing on his lips as he watched the waves. He seemed utterly content and she envied him momentarily. Of course, she knew better. He appeared more untroubled now but he'd already admitted otherwise to her. Still haunted by his own ghosts despite Red John out of his life. He'd left a permanent scar in Jane's soul in the shape of his mark. Maybe Jane was just better at hiding its effect on him nowadays.

"I'm doing okay, Lisbon," he said, interpreting her thoughts. He turned to look at her pointedly. "Especially in moments like these."

Before she had a chance to respond to nodded to a spot behind them. "Come on, let's sit a while, soak up this weather."

She pulled her knees up to her chest and clasped her hands around them. Jane rested beside her, half sitting and half lying as he rested on his elbows, occasionally looking at the sky. For minutes they sat there in silence. She closed her eyes and breathed in slowly in an attempt to find some peace in her own troubled soul.

"I know there's stuff you haven't told me," he said eventually in his most soothing tone. "That...something happened to you while we were apart. Or that...or that you did something you regret. Your demeanour, your guilt, your anger...while what happened to you in that room was deplorable there's more troubling you than what took place there."

Her eyes snapped open and any peace she'd found shattered into tiny pieces. She didn't dare look him in the eye so he could read her face.

"I-I don't know what you're talking about, Jane," she managed to respond.

"Okay," he said evenly. "If that's how you want to play it. I'm not going to pry. Or use manipulation to get the truth from you. Just know that you _can_ tell me. When you're ready you can tell me anything, Teresa."

She nodded without speaking, heart hammering against her ribcage.

He yawned and got to his feet with a long stretch, obvious this line of questioning was over. "I'm going to take a little walk along the beach, won't be long."

"Okay," she mumbled, her eyes steadfastly set on a sailboat in the distance.

* * *

"Lisbon."

Startled at the sound of Jane's voice she opened her eyes groggily. Sunlight blinded her and she put a hand across her forehead to stop it bouncing off her retinas.

He was grinning at her. "You fell asleep. I've only been gone twenty minutes. Just as well it wasn't longer or you'd be burnt to a crisp."

"Sorry," she yawned. "Haven't slept much. It's catching up with me."

"I'm sure," he said, sitting down. "Just another couple of minutes and we'll head back to Sacramento."

As she focused on him again she noticed his cloak of nonchalance wasn't covering him quite so well.

"You okay?" she asked.

"Sure," he replied brightly.

She frowned. "No, you're not."

He was about to scoff but then his face fell. "No, I'm not," he replied truthfully.

"What's happened?" She just hoped it wasn't about what he'd said before he went on his stroll along the beach.

He said nothing for a moment then purposefully got up and brushed sand from his pants, a decision made. "I want to show you something."

* * *

They arrived at a rock pool further along the beach five minutes later. Jane sat down and stared into it. "You know why I brought you to this particular beach today? We passed three other perfectly good ones on our way here."

"I wasn't looking, to be honest," she responded getting down to kneel opposite him.

He stared into the small pool of water again, his eyes on a starfish as it scuttled across it, a sad smile on his lips.

Lisbon closed her eyes as his expression became increasingly haunted. "Because Charlotte liked it here," she finally determined.

He nodded. "This was _our_ place."

He glanced at Lisbon. "She told me that." He laughed the saddest laugh she'd ever heard.

She swallowed thickly before she composed herself. "Why? What made it so special for her?"

He shook his head. "I really have no idea. You know what kids are like when they get an idea in their heads."

He explained, "When I was back from being on the road and I hadn't seen her for a few days I always took her out for the day. Just me and her." He chuckled, "To give Angie a break too."

She'd never heard him speak so openly about his family and tears threatened. She managed a quick nod.

"We came here one day. And she found a rock pool pretty much like this one. Nothing spectacular, right? Just like many others in plenty of other beaches. But we spent a wonderful hour watching it together. I described all the creatures in it and she just soaked up every word. I swore at the time that she was going to a marine biologist." He sucked in a breath. "It's...it's one of my fondest memories of spending time with her. After that day, every time we had a day together she always asked to come to this beach. I tried to trick her and take her to a closer one when I was exhausted once but she wouldn't have it. She got upset until I brought her here. Because it was o _ur special place_ , she said."

He looked at Lisbon for the first time in seconds. "This is where I feel closest to her. Not Alexandria Cemetery. This is..." He shook his head as a tear escaped, "If I believed in your god or any sort of higher being then this is where I think her soul would reside."

"You don't know that it doesn't, Jane," she responded fiercely.

He snorted a laugh and brushed a tear from Lisbon's cheek. "You cry a lot more now. I'm not crazy about that change in you, I have to admit."

She smiled as another rolled down her cheek. "How the hell do you think I feel about it? I've had to buy waterproof mascara."

His smile in response slowly turned into something wholly more intense as he rubbed another tear away. Her lips parted as her pulse quickened, drawn into his gaze. She found it impossible to fight the attraction between them and the comfort they could find in each other's kisses.

But just as she leant forward a fraction he backed away from her, his eyes questioning, uncertain. He whispered, "We better be getting back. Big day tomorrow."


	28. Chapter 28

**A/N: So I know I promised a Reconnect update but after three days of writer's block this week ( & 3000 words written then deleted) I gave up on it and turned back to Broken instead. Apologies about that, it's harder than I thought to get back to this! I'll try again next week for that story for anyone still interested in reading it. And I know I've had some feedback that this one is hard to follow as it has multiple threads going on concurrently & updates have been sporadic so sorry about that too. ****If you're having trouble this might be one to put on the back burner until it's finished as it is quite a complex story (although that could be 2020 unless I get a move on).**

 **On a personal note, thank you to all of you who were so gracious to send me & my loved ones good wishes after the last chapter. Appreciate the love.  
**

* * *

Chapter 28 – The Stuff of Nightmares

 _ **Sacramento.**_

 _ **Around twelve months earlier.**_

With the comfort of Lisbon's arm draped across his stomach and the smell of her shampoo filling his senses Jane was soon lulled to peaceful slumber. He'd intended for them to have a conversation but he was just too wrapped up in the perfect moment he was experiencing to ruin it with talking immediately. He'd only intended to close his eyes and listen to the sounds of her breathing for a few seconds before they spoke about what would happen next between them. But instead, he was pulled under to a soft sweet cloud of nothingness, her breaths against the hair on his chest soothing him like a lullaby.

His last thoughts were _this is real, this is life._ _This_ _is living again._

* * *

He awoke groggily, a sense of unfamiliarity hitting him before he opened his eyes. A strange bed. Cinnamon. Muscle pain.

 _Ah...yes._

He smiled softly, hands wandering to his companion who had turned her back on him. Only then did he realise she was awake. And probably had been since he'd slept.

"Hey," he whispered, snuggling against her back and still slightly surprised how natural it felt after years with nothing but his demons to keep him company during the night, "everything okay?"

The tenseness in her body provided him with his answer, her response the contrary. "Yeah, I'm good," she said quietly.

He guided his arm around her until she rolled to face him. "What's up? Cravings? Thinking about tomorrow and the days after that?" He paused. Nervously, "Us? What happened earlier now it's sunk in?"

She smiled gently. "You make me sound much more philosophical than I actually am, Jane."

He returned her smile. "So?"

She shrugged. "I was just thinking I'm exhausted and I can't sleep and I'm pissed about it."

"Ah," he smiled, "that old friend. Insomnia."

She sighed. "I'll be okay. You go back to sleep."

"What kind of bed partner would I be to allow my companion to stare at the ceiling while I slumbered?"

"I don't want you to hypnotise me," she replied, arching a defiant eyebrow.

"You really do think the worst of me sometimes, Lisbon."

"Yeah, I wonder why that is."

He grinned then. A small part of why he hadn't wanted to cross the line into a sexual relationship with her was his fear that it would change their previous status quo. That perhaps their light banter would dissolve into every word having some alternative meaning that was not intended. This was proof enough that it could remain intact.

To answer her he wrapped his arms around her frame and brought her head to lie on his chest. He interlinked the fingers from both hands until she was cocooned against his body in a cosy embrace.

He spoke soothingly. "You can't sleep because you're afraid to relive your time in that room. Correct?"

"I guess. The nightmares are...it's almost better not to sleep at all than to wake up after them. And I didn't want you to experience that lying beside me."

"Yes. Like I'm so unaccustomed to waking up screaming myself," he argued pithily.

She shifted slightly in his arms to look up at him. "You don't do that when you're at the CBI sleeping. You never have. Not even at the start."

"I don't sleep there. I nap."

She rolled her eyes. "What's the difference?"

"I tell myself there is one so there is. I never allow myself to get into a deep sleep. I've trained myself to only drift so far."

"Isn't that exhausting?"

He shrugged. "I'm used to it. And I don't stay there every night. If I know I can't function mentally in the way I know I can I go to my motel and force myself to take a sleeping pill. My mental acuity takes a time to warm up for a time the following day but it stops me from hallucinating from sleep deprivation instead. It's all about balance."

She stared at him. "I had no idea your insomnia was that bad."

"Me napping on my couch every day wasn't an indicator?" he mocked.

"I just thought you were incredibly lazy," she teased.

He laughed and kissed her forehead.

"So then you don't wake up screaming?" she asked. "Not anymore, anyway, with the sleeping pills? I-I don't want to take any medication, though, Jane."

He nodded in understanding. She was so terrified she was going to become some kind of junkie she was more than wary of taking pills for anything.

"I still wake up screaming," he admitted. "Just-just not so much."

"If not at the CBI or your hotel then when?"

He licked his lips and she saw him consider what to admit to her and what not to admit to her. They'd inadvertently strayed into territory he didn't like to discuss, evidently.

"Malibu," he said so quietly she had to strain to hear him. "When I go there...it doesn't feel right to take something to block the memories going there provokes – the trauma. It feels like to do that I would be cheating on them, somehow. Would almost feel like denying some of the emotions of what their loss did to me, lessening them. Make their deaths not quite so devastating. And also, selfishly..."

He breathed deeply as she watched him stare at the ceiling, fascinated by the insight she was witnessing. She didn't dare move a fraction to break the truth spell he'd cast upon himself.

He continued, "Selfishly, waking up there and experiencing that pain helps me in my pursuit. It keeps me focused on what's important."

For the first time since they'd made love, she saw guilt wash across his face. Not guilt at sleeping with her but guilt at allowing himself freedom from his mission for a short time.

Softly, "Jane-"

"Anyway," he interrupted, clearing his throat and tightening his now slack hold on her, "It's your sleeplessness we're supposed to be helping here, not mine."

Before she had a chance to interrupt he had told her to take a couple of deep calming breaths. Once accomplished he said, "Now. Close your eyes."

"You said you wouldn't hypnotise me."

He rolled his eyes inwardly. "I'm not. Now just listen to my voice and do as I say."

She closed her eyes with a huff of discontent. He continued, "Now, imagine my arms around you are a like a force field. Nothing can pierce them to harm you. Nothing can hurt you. Nothing can take you from me. Okay?"

She nodded mutely, his soothing tone drawing her body closer to his. "You feel that? You're protected. And while you sleep you will experience the same protection. Your nightmares will not come tonight because I'll protect you. I will not leave you. I will not abandon you to your demons. I'm right here with you, Teresa, and I'm not going anywhere. Nothing can harm you now. You're here with me and you're safe."

* * *

 _ **Sacramento.**_

 _ **Present Day.**_

The arrival of the man in the bright orange jumpsuit extracted hushed voices and surreptitious glances from the agents on the Serious Crimes team floor of the CBI. Rigsby and Van Pelt stopped talking as they stood in the bullpen discussing a file, their eyes drawn to Tommy Volker as he was marched through to an interrogation room in handcuffs. His gaze barely drifted to them but he wore a sneer of a smile as he was walked onwards, the whiteness of his teeth a contrast to the thick beard he had now grown.

Van Pelt shook her head. "God, what I'd give to have five minutes alone with that bastard."

"Steady there, Grace. And I think you might just have to get in line. Speaking of the devils, Lisbon and Jane on their way in?"

"Yeah," Cho said, appearing behind them. "They've just left his apartment. That was Volker, I take it?"

"Yeah, Ron's taking him to interrogation and keeping an eye on him."

"All right then," he nodded, heading to the break room. "Buckle up."

* * *

"Why are we in here if he's arrived already?" Lisbon asked, glancing at the door of Cho's office.

Jane and Cho exchanged looks.

"You don't want me in there?!" she continued, noticing Jane's look of apprehension as her head swivelled back and forth between the two men. "You know he'll want to see me. Don't think he won't."

"Of course he will," Jane responded. "Buy why give him what he wants right away? Lisbon, you're the prize. You are what he will want most. Why capitulate so easily to what he desires?"

She shot him a hard stare but soon answered, shoulders slumped, "Yeah, okay, I can see the value in that."

She turned to Cho. "Okay if I watch?"

"Depends." He raised his eyebrows in a question, his gaze set firmly on Lisbon.

Noticing the awkwardness between the two former colleagues Jane took the opportunity to step out of the fray. "I'll go grab some tea. Let you two talk."

After he closed the door behind him Lisbon spoke quietly. "Cho, I'm sorry you had to witness what I did the other day. I-I know my behaviour must have shocked you. I apologise for that. You don't have to worry. I'm not going to attack Volker or interrupt your interrogation."

"I already have one loose cannon with Jane. I don't need another."

She blushed. "I know that."

"Okay then." His tone became more friend, less boss. "How you coping being back?"

She smiled faintly and shook her head slightly. "I'm coping. That's about it right now."

"Appreciate your honesty. Anything I can do to help?"

She looked into the bullpen wistfully. "Just your job. As always. Catch the bastards."

The left side of his mouth twitched upwards. "It's what we do, right?"

She nodded with a sad smile.

Her response _it_ _'s what YOU do_ remained unspoken.

As Cho went to leave he stopped again. "Hudson had the AG approve a deal for him."

"I see. Can't say I'm surprised. What is it?" she asked him flatly. "Freedom if he helps you catch Smith?"

A curt nod. "Sorry."

She shrugged. "I know your hands were tied, Cho. It's okay."

"Job sucks sometimes."

"Yeah, it does."

* * *

She filed into the observation room silently. Jane had nodded his promise that he could handle Volker as he and Cho discussed tactics outside. Van Pelt was waiting inside and she gave Lisbon a sympathetic smile as she entered. "Hey," the redhead said gently.

"I'm not a china doll, Van Pelt, I'm fine. Seriously."

But she swallowed thickly when she looked through the glass. He'd aged in the time since she'd seen him last. Or maybe the beard and the longer hair just made him look a lot older. The prison jumpsuit wasn't exactly an Armani suit, either. Handcuffed to the table Ron loitered at his back, watching every move. Although his movements were restricted his posture was relaxed as he leant back in his chair comfortably, his fingers steepled together in front of him. She stared into the glass as if she could will him to look at her but his eyes wandered around the room on nothing in particular instead.

"He looks bored," she scoffed. "We must have disturbed his yard time."

"He won't be for long," Grace said.

* * *

Cho stopped Jane as they got to the door. "Look, Lisbon said she's not going to off the reservation today with Volker. I need the same assurance from you."

"You think I'm going to punch him? Not really my style, Cho."

"No. But we need answers from him. Remember that."

"If you're asking me to play nice-"

"I'm not. But don't piss him off any more than you need to."

Jane shrugged. "Well, we'll see, won't we?"

With that, he opened the door.

Volker watched the two men file inside, gaze darting back and forth between them. His eyes lingered on the door as it closed behind them before he clicked his tongue. "Well, gentlemen, to what do I owe the pleasure? It's quite nice to get a change of scene, I have to admit. Even if it is exchanging one set of drab four walls for another."

Cho sat down opposite him as Ron excused himself while Jane took up a position standing against the wall opposite, hands in jacket pockets.

Stony-faced, Cho dispensed with preliminaries immediately and opened the file in front of him. He slid the photofit of 'General Smith' across to Volker.

"We want to know who he is and where we can find him."

Volker raised an eyebrow. Then a sly smile slithered across his face. "And what makes you think I know who this man is or where he is to be found?"

"Because you had him torture Teresa Lisbon."

Volker chuckled faintly. "Ah! The fair former Senior Agent. That's what this is about? I thought you closed that case already. Weren't there rumours at the time it was the notorious Red John who degraded her in that way?" He spoke to Jane, "You'd know more about that than me, of course, Mr Jane. Your former opponent for many years, wasn't he?"

When Jane didn't respond Volker continued, "I do have to admit that the place lacks a certain ambience without her heavy-handed porcelain hand at the helm. How is she coping these days? Do you keep in touch much? I would so love to see her again and wish her well."

"Yeah, we'll pass on your regards," Cho deadpanned. "So-"

Volker interrupted him and nodded to Jane again. "You're very quiet, Mr Jane. Cat got your tongue? You must miss her by your side most of all." He smirked, "Oh and congratulations on the felling of the aforementioned Red John. Although it wasn't really your doing, was it? Did it sting that you didn't get to dole out the punishment yourself?"

Jane took a couple of steps forward and sat down opposite him. He leant forward and smiled contemptuously. "Your plan isn't going to work, Volker. You think you can incite me into taking a swing at you? Believe me, I wouldn't waste the effort."

"I really have no idea what you mean." He glanced at the photofit again. "And nor do I know or have ever known this man. Whoever told you I did was lying."

Jane leant back in his chair and scoffed. "You already showed us your hand as soon as we entered the room. No point in denying it. You looked to see who was following behind. You were looking for _her_. Because you knew why you were brought here before you stepped a foot inside these walls. You'd heard about Jessica Wells on the news and knew this man was still out there abducting and killing women."

"Well, if it is the same man Teresa Lisbon survived." He shrugged, "If you can call it that. From what I heard it was quite the fall from grace."

"It still irks you, doesn't it? That she lived?" Jane jabbed the picture of Smith that lay between them. "That _he_ allowed her to live. That _he_ went against your explicit instructions and defied you instead. Not only that but he stopped you from obtaining what you wanted most. What the plan was all leading up to – the moment she'd look at you and know it was _you_ that caused her to suffer. Caused her to die. That you'd be the final face she'd ever see."

Jane took a breath in an attempt to control the rage surging inside him. More calmly, "What I fail to understand is why you won't help us find him. To extract revenge on him for disobeying you."

Volker's expression gave little away as he said nothing in response. But Jane could see he'd hit at least one bullseye when the other man's hands knitted more firmly together in his cuffs, the attempt at a smile of amusement more like a baring of teeth full of aggression to a trained eye.

The consultant continued, "The only reason you will not help us is that you cannot help us. You have no idea where this man is or you'd have dealt with him yourself months ago."

Volker averted his eyes, thinking. Then he turned back to Jane slowly. "Then why am I here at all if that's what you believe?"

"Because I had to know it was _you_. I had to know for certain. And now I do. But apart from that, you're useless, aren't you? Ineffectual. Powerless. Just another inmate in an orange jumpsuit."

He stood up and went to leave the room. "Wait," Volker stated calmly, taking the opportunity to stare at the two-way mirror opposite him. "That's not exactly true, is it, Mr Jane? It's not just you who wanted to look me in the eyes." He stared through the mirror, a wolfish smile appearing on his lips. Jane quickly turned back to obscure Lisbon's view of him behind it.

Volker addressed him again. "And you're wrong about what I know and don't know. I'll help you catch him like any good citizen should. On two conditions."

"Why should I believe you?"

"What do you have to lose? And, if this man has been murdering women then you never know where he'll strike next, do you? You don't have time to waste."

"What are your conditions?" Cho interjected.

"Immediate parole."

Cho nodded quickly. "Based on his arrest and charges filed. And the second condition?"

"That's easy, Cho," Jane said evenly. "He wants to see Lisbon."

Volker smiled at him. "Got it in one, Mr Jane. And as she is the victim of the piece I believe I should recount what I know directly to her. Alone."

"No," Jane said immediately. "You talk to us. She no longer works for the Bureau."

"Deal," Cho responded. Jane turned in surprise but Cho kept his focus on Volker. "But we'll be listening to every word you say. Any threats or intimidation and the deal is off. And I'll make it my mission to have your sentence extended by adding a charge of obstruction of justice, slander or anything else I can think of to the time you have left."

* * *

"I got this," Lisbon said as they assembled back in the observation room. Volker was currently reading the deal already approved by the AG. He'd waved off the requirement for legal representation so confident was he in his own abilities. He'd said he'd negotiated thousands of business deals and this one was just like any other.

She turned to Jane. "Jane, Cho was right. We don't have time to play games right now. We knew he'd want to see me."

"I never agreed to him seeing you alone."

She rolled her eyes. "Well, that's not your call. It's Cho's. And mine. But I'm not on my own, am I? You all will be right here in this room watching every move and listening to every word he says. And...and to be frank what more can he do to me, huh? Like you said before you wanted to be sure it was him who took me. Look him in the eye. Well, don't you think I'm owed the same?"

"Yes, of course you are, but you shouldn't have to face that alone."

"I appreciate your concern but I need this." Her voice dipped, "Jane, I need to face him. I need to know that I can." She blushed at that admittance in a room full of people.

He sighed as he looked through the window again. "Okay, then."

* * *

The door behind him opened slowly and Volker turned his head immediately. "Teresa!" he beamed, "I had no idea you still lived in Sacramento and that they'd get you here so quickly."

She sat opposite him and licked her lips, wishing she could stop her heart from racing. She focused on the blank notepad and pen in her hands and placed them on the table. "I'm not here for small talk, Volker. Tell us what you know. Let's start with what his real name is and where you met him."

"You look good," he answered instead. "So...fresh and just brimming with vitality. Perhaps leaving law enforcement was the best thing that ever happened to you. You must be so much more relaxed without all that stress."

"Yeah? Wish I could say the same about you. You look like crap."

His smile faltered momentarily and then he laughed. "You're not a fan of the beard?"

"I'm not a fan of any of it. Never have been."

"Oh, I don't know. If we'd met under other circumstances we could have been friends, I'd like to think. Or maybe more than that."

She put the pen down and studied him openly as she crossed her arms across her chest. "You know I was terrified of coming in here. I was afraid of what I'd say or do when I actually saw you face to face." She tilted her head towards the mirror behind her. "I think there's a pool going on to see if I'll crack that skull of yours through the wall or through the mirror. Or if I'll just take a chair to you and beat you senseless instead.

"But you know what? I'm not going to do any of that. Because it doesn't matter anymore. What happened to me is done. So bravo for that. You got me. You almost killed me. You made me suffer. You _saw_ me suffer."

His eyes glinted with a sense of victory.

She added, "But you didn't kill me. I'm still here. I'm _still here_."

"Just," he replied with a smirk. He leant forward and she fought the impulse to draw her head back as she felt his breath on her face. "You cover it up well but you're broken inside, aren't you, Teresa? You're not who you were. You're not the same person who came to my office and asked me for a DNA sample. There was a fire in her eyes back then. Now you're just pretending that there is."

"You don't know me. Then or now."

"Does anyone?"

He glanced through the mirror. "Even Mr Jane doesn't know you, does he? All the secrets you hold inside?"

She laughed faintly. "Whatever I said in that room was the drug infused ranting of a madwoman, Volker."

"Hmm." He picked up the pen with both his hands and scribbled something on the white sheet between them. "And how about that? Can you say the same?"

She gasped as she read the couple of words on the paper and blanched immediately. He smiled wolfishly as she looked at him in shock. "I want a day out. A nice lunch outside so we can continue our chat. You think you can arrange that for us, Teresa?"

Hastily she ripped off the sheet of paper he'd written on and stood up. She ripped another few pages for good measure and balled them together as she rushed out of the room.

Jane and Cho met her outside. "What did he write down?" Jane demanded.

She shook her head, grasping the ball of paper in her hand even more tightly. "Doesn't matter," she said breathlessly. "But I-I can't do this. I-I can't talk to him again. I just can't."

"Doesn't matter?! Lisbon, you're shaking. What the hell did he write on that paper to upset you like this?"

She went to shove past him. Without looking at him, "Leave me alone." She pushed Cho with her elbow to break free of the group. "All of you just leave me the hell alone!" Her yells echoed loudly down the corridor as she ran to the elevator.

As Jane went to go after her Rigsby showed up, startled by Lisbon flying past him. "What happened with Volker?"

"I intend to find out," Jane said, sidestepping him quickly to follow Lisbon.

"Ah, Margo Wells is here to talk to us," the tall agent informed him and stopping him in his tracks. "You wanted her brought in, remember?"

Jane rolled his eyes. "Right. Okay."

Van Pelt asked, "You want me to go after Lisbon?"

Jane shook his head. "No. Maybe she just needs some space right now. I'll talk to her later."


	29. Chapter 29

Chapter 29 - Escape

 ** _Sacramento._**

 ** _Around twelve months earlier._**

He found her in the kitchen the following morning, her back to him as she wore her football jersey and her right hand dipping a teabag in a mug.

He buttoned up his vest and rolled up his shirtsleeves as he observed her from the doorway, a smile playing on his lips. He'd missed this – easy gestures of comfortable domesticity. And the sight of her performing the simple ritual was almost as alluring as her flesh had been the night before. A brief flicker of guilt shot through him but was gone again a moment later, replaced by gratitude in its wake. It was only in this moment that he could believe that perhaps being alone was not to be his destiny, after all.

"Bravo," he said, startling her and making her drop the spoon on the countertop.

She turned her head quickly with a blush. "Good morning. What am I being congratulated for?" she asked, picking up a mug of coffee.

He came to stand beside her and inspected the tea. "Looks good." His eyes wandered to her body. "And so do you, my dear." He planted a soft kiss on her lips. "How'd you sleep?"

"Better. Thank you."

He studied her for any trace of a lie then nodded assuredly. "My pleasure."

He sipped the tea while eyeing her over the rim then placed the mug on the counter. "So we never did get around to having that talk."

"No."

"We should."

"I guess."

He pursed his lips and shrugged. "Thoughts?"

She sat down at the table in her kitchen, her fingers moving restlessly over the Chicago Cubs mug. "There are really only two options, aren't there?"

He joined her with his beverage. "Which are?"

"Kinda obvious. We either stop doing this and go back to how things were before - assuming we can, of course - or we continue doing this."

"Hm." He exhaled loudly and leant back in his chair. "The less dangerous option is to stop."

"Because of Red John? Or are you just using him as an excuse to keep your distance from me again?"

Stunned momentarily by her forthrightness he wasn't given a chance to respond when she added quickly, "Anyway, whatever the reason, I agree. We shouldn't repeat this."

Mildly surprised, "And there was I thinking I'd rocked your world last night."

"It's not a matter of that and you know that, Jane."

"Still..." He patted her hand and got up with a sigh, his brow knitted in a frown. "So I'm a one night stand for you, huh?"

"Don't say it like that's all it was. You know it was more than that."

She pushed her coffee away and came to face him, his back to the sink as he watched her. "You _know_ it meant more than that."

He stared into her eyes unblinking for a long moment. She watched him fight internally over what to say next. "You're making this way too easy for me," he finally responded. "Well, at least you think you are."

She slid her arms around his waist. "What's the alternative? You spend half your time running after Red John and the other half with me terrified he's going to take me again? Live half a life with one foot in each camp? That's not fair to either one of us. And it won't make catching him any easier either."

He brought her closer and kissed her forehead. "Let me figure something out that could work." Quietly, "I'm not ready for this to be over. It's barely even begun, Teresa."

When she didn't reply he took her face in his hands. Beseechingly, "I'll figure something out. Trust me. Okay?"

Tears threatening, "O-okay."

He smiled and kissed her soundly. As their lips parted his cell phone rang and he released her to fish it out of his pocket. "It's Cho," he nodded to her as he answered it.

"Hey Cho, you have a case, I take it."

As Lisbon sipped her coffee he said into the receiver, "No. Not us. You. I'm taking the day off." He winked at Lisbon with a smile.

She frowned as he continued, "Because it's a lovely day and I don't feel like looking at a corpse."

With that, he hung up and shrugged at her.

"Jane, what the hell?! You have a case. You need to go to work."

"No."

"No?"

Another shrug. "Nope."

She rolled her eyes. "Look, I know I had a...slight wobble yesterday in my...recovery-"

"'I'd call buying heroin more than a _wobble_ , Lisbon."

"Still. I don't need you to babysit me. I need to start handling this by myself."

"I agree."

Flummoxed, "Then why won't you work the..." Her words trailed off as the realisation hit her. "You're not working to punish Bertram."

"Hm. Maybe."

"What are you, a child?"

His eyes twinkled mischievously. "You know I am not more than anyone, Teresa."

She reddened but continued unabated, "Then quit acting like one. You're the one who wanted me to stay off work anyway!"

"Yes, by your own choice, not by his manipulation."

"Yeah, we should all just leave the manipulation to you, shouldn't we?"

As he was about to respond his lips turned into a smile instead. "Are we having our first fight?"

"As what?"

He smiled and opened his mouth to speak, "Well-"

"Never mind. Don't change the subject. You need to work the case, Jane. You're not punishing Bertram by not going in, you're punishing Cho. He needs you now." Sheepishly, "They're already a team member down. They can't lose you too."

He clicked his tongue in annoyance then slackened his posture considerably. Worried, "But what about you? You didn't cope well yesterday, Teresa."

"I know. But I have to try, Jane. I have to do this on my own."

"You're not on your own."

She smiled faintly at him. "I appreciate that but you can't do this for me. I need to find the strength to fight this myself."

Indecision washed across his face.

She took the phone from his hand and searched for Cho's name. "Call him back and tell him you're coming in."

"Are you sure? You'll call me if you have another... _wobble_?"

"I'll be fine. Gonna keep busy. I have a stack of laundry to do and my car could use a wash for a start."

"So you're going to try to exhaust yourself physically to stave off cravings, are you?"

She kissed him gently, "Worked for me last night, didn't it?" she said in his ear seductively.

He blushed and looked at his feet. "I guess it did." He took a breath. "All right then, I'll stop by after, bring you some food?"

"Sounds good," she smiled.

She wrapped his arms around his waist. "And I'm good," she nodded. When they locked eyes she added with conviction, "Jane, I'll be right here when you get back. Stop worrying about me and go and do your job."

"Sorry, I know you will. We'll figure this out. I'll see you later, Teresa."

He kissed her softly in a goodbye.

Neither of them knew in that moment it would be over a year before their paths would cross again.

* * *

 ** _Sacramento._**

 ** _Present Day._**

Cigarette butts littered the doorway to Paradise Found, a bar he remembered her mentioning once a few years back.

She'd unexpectedly become chatty on the way back to Sacramento from a fourteen hour day, tiredness and too much caffeine annihilating her Agent persona and upending it into a giggly and much more open version of her off-duty self. It was a delightful memory he'd revisited often. She'd said she'd been at the bar the weekend before, dragged there by a friend from Vice who was looking into a possible Prostitution ring in her free time. He'd laughed at that to begin with that night and had said, "You cops can never be off the clock, can you?"

Then he'd listened attentively to her describing the various suitors who'd attempted to pick her up, sarcasm dripping as she attacked their unfortunate choice of pick up lines, clothing and decisions on personal grooming (or lack of it).

"Seriously, Jane, how the hell does a man expect a woman to respond when he tells her she's an angel from Heaven? Do they really expect that to _work_?!"

He'd chuckled beside her as she'd gone on and on and had had to pull over when she began mimicking one of the poor unfortunate souls for fear of crashing the car. "Howdy, ma'am, I'm from Tex _asssss_." She'd harrumphed, "And all the while he was saying it he was staring at my ass and looking at me like I was supposed to be impressed by his wit. Yeah, right."

Then she'd laughed herself. Not a giggle but a full on belly laugh. They'd shared a look together as they'd wiped their tears dry. A look that spoke more of affection for a friend. A look that said 'You are my best friend.' A look that spoke of trust, companionship, family, love. A rare moment of absolute freedom of expression for both of them, even.

As he swung open the door to the bar he wondered if that was the moment he fell in love with her. He knew he liked her and admired her long before that. Was attracted to her certainly. Was it in that car at three am with the pair of them laughing like school children that his heart knew for sure she was under his skin permanently?

He saw her immediately as the door closed behind him, perched on a barstool in the dim light of the bar. It was decorated in dark chestnut and red tones and was mostly open plan save for a large bar at its centre and a collection of intimate booths and larger tables around the walls. He supposed on a weekend it would be packed to the rafters with singletons trying to impress each other on the expansive dance floor. But on a Monday evening at seven pm only a sad collection of mostly lone figures had sought refuge behind its door. As he strolled to the bar he read the people he passed easily with one glance in their direction – a recent divorce who he expected had received his final papers that day if the document beside him rolled into an angry ball, white knuckles around a scotch glass recently drained were anything to go by; a woman who'd sought some respite in the bottle after a fight with her husband – not the first time it had turned violent if the black eye she was trying to conceal with makeup was anything to go by...and so on and so on...

He turned his attention to Lisbon with a sigh who was laughing now, a man in his early fifties with greying hair vying for her attention and hovering beside her like an incessant bluebottle in a suit. She was terrible at flirting, her light teasing tone entirely unconvincing to his ears as he got closer.

"Hey, darling," he smiled, dropping a kiss to her cheek and shutting up both her and the buffoon opposite her. He glanced at the shot glass on the bar beside her and inspected her eyes for evidence of how many she'd had. Enough that she was entertaining the slightly rounded man with bird-like eyes and hungry grin towards her breasts.

"Sorry, I'm late," he continued effortlessly, casting a smile at the man who was gaping at him.

"So, what did I miss?" he said, looking from one to the other.

"What are you doing here?" she snapped.

The older man piped up, "Yeah, buddy, do you mind-?"

"Not at all," Jane replied, holding out his hand.

The other man glanced at Lisbon and, bewildered, shook Jane's hand.

"Patrick, nice to meet you."

"Ah...Alan. Hi."

Brightly, "Hey!"

Jane slipped an arm around Lisbon's waist and peered at Alan more closely. He nodded. "Okay, I'm in. Your choice tonight, dear." He winked at Alan. "Let's have some fun, huh?"

"Fun?" Alan glanced at Lisbon again. "Teresa, what on earth-?"

She disentangled Jane's arm from her body swiftly. But before she could speak he did. "Oh! You haven't explained everything yet? Sorry, my bad."

He added in a conspiratorial whisper as he leant in to speak to the other man, "We have this agreement, you see. We choose...ah...people to have fun with...week about. Last week we were joined by a gorgeous redhead. My choice. This week, it's Teresa's call. And you are that lucky man, Alan."

He straightened up again and stood like a proud peacock beside Lisbon. "Oh dear god," she huffed, getting off the stool. Jane went to take her hand to help her down and she swatted it away. "Go to hell, Jane. I don't want to talk to you right now, don't you get that?"

He forgot all about Alan and the prank he was playing on him. "Well, I want to talk to you, Lisbon," he said, blocking her path.

"Get out of my way," she growled, reminding him of a caged tiger.

He took a step back and allowed her to pass. Seeing she was only going to the ladies' room (and he had already purloined her wallet and phone as she'd passed him) he took a seat at the bar with a weary sigh.

"So?" Alan said, interrupting his thoughts. Jane frowned at the other man. Alan smiled hopefully, "So what happens now, Patrick? How does this work?"

* * *

She marched back to the bar, Jane unsurprisingly its sole occupant now and a glass of water sitting beside him as he sipped from a bottle of beer.

"You stole my phone and wallet."

"Yep."

He took a swig of beer. Calmly, "Funny story about your possible hook up-"

"I'm not interested," she bit back.

"You seemed to be when I arrived."

She reddened. "Give me back my things."

"No. Not yet."

"Jane-"

"Sit," he ordered her, looking at her for the first time since she'd arrived back from the bathroom.

She swallowed under the harshness reflected back to her, the undeniable hurt in his eyes. She sat down and sipped the water.

"You don't get to be mad about this," she said. "I'm single, Jane. I can do what I want. With whom I want. Just because you don't like it-"

"You really think I care about that idiot? Please, Lisbon, give me some credit."

"So if I'd left with him you wouldn't have cared?"

He laughed humourlessly. "A bad night of sex to get back at me for god knows what I've done to you? Believe me, that would be more punishment for you than for me, my dear."

She sipped the water in silence. Then, "How'd you find me, anyway?"

"Your phone. If you hadn't wanted to be found then you'd have taken the battery out. But you didn't. Hence, somewhere in that tequila-addled brain of yours, you wanted me to come find you."

"I'm not drunk."

"You're not entirely sober, either."

She swigged her water like it was whisky straight up. "Bite me, Jane. I just wanted a day off. Wasn't exactly easy seeing Volker again this morning."

"What did he write down?"

She eyed the barman and nodded towards the tequila bottle behind him. "You didn't ask him?"

"No."

She turned to face Jane. "Why not?"

"Two reasons. One – it's unlikely he'd tell me the truth and would get a kick out of seeing my discomfort. And two – I'd rather hear it from you."

The bartender slid the filled shot glass towards her. She wrapped her fingers around it and knocked back its contents in one mouthful. As she slammed the glass back on the bar she said evenly, "It's not related to finding Smith. That's all you need to know."

"I need more than that."

She got off the barstool, a little shaky on her legs. She stared into his eyes. "No."

As she turned her back on him and went to leave he cleared his throat and held up her phone and wallet in one hand. She huffed and turned back, attempted to grab them out of his hand but he held them aloft just as she tried. "No?"

"No. You don't need to know. It's personal. Private."

"Something you did in that room? Something you said? Something he watched on tape?"

She closed her eyes and shook her head. "See this is one of the reasons I didn't want to come back here in the first place. Questions...questions...searching for hidden truths all the time...digging and digging for any morsel of information you can get, you can't help yourself! I told you it was nothing to do with this case. That's all you need to know. So stop trying to get in my head, Jane!"

He got off his stool and bore down on her. "Too late, Lisbon. I'm already there just like you're in mine! Don't you think you owe me any type of explanation for bolting like you did? Are you really going to let Volker away with this? I thought we were going to work together from now on! And just for the record, what exactly _have_ I done to you for you to treat me like something on the soles of your shoes since you've come back here?"

"I didn't WANT to come back here! Don't you get that?! But no, you made me, didn't you? Made me feel sorry for Jessica? Manipulated me into staying with you? Manipulated me into investigating and reliving this goddamned nightmare every minute of every day just when I had started to put it behind me! _That's_ what you did to me, Jane! What Volker wrote is not related! How many times do I need to tell you that! Now just leave it to hell alone!"

She was yelling now as tears streamed down her face and the few patrons were gawking at the scene at the bar. The bartender arrived and removed her glass. "Okay, that's enough. Take it someplace else, folks."

She wiped her eyes quickly with the pads of her fingers and held out her hand for her wallet. She didn't meet his eyes then took a long breath. "Wallet. I need to pay for my drinks and catch a cab."

Quietly, "I'll drive you back. My car's outside." He handed her back her things and she sniffed as she took out the bills required for the tab, hands trembling as she counted them out on the bar.

"I'll be outside when you're ready," he said with a sigh.

* * *

He sat at the steering wheel and gripped it tightly as he waited for her to exit. He rubbed a hand over his face and expelled a large breath. "Damn it," he muttered, shaking his head. He closed his eyes and attempted a couple of calming breaths. He'd began to think she'd tricked him and went out a back exit and had gone to a motel instead when the door opened beside him and she got in silently. She'd splashed some water on her face and had tied her hair back when he glanced at her in the rearview mirror.

"All set?" he said affably.

A curt nod followed and he started the engine. They drove back to the apartment in silence.

* * *

"Some tea?" he asked when they entered his living room. He strolled over to the kettle, looking for any noise to fill the awkward silence.

"I didn't make you come back here," he said, fetching the teabags. "That was your decision. And you knew it was always going to be hard facing this again, Lisbon. And that goes to show you haven't put this behind you. Not by a long shot."

He sensed her standing behind him and heard her throw her leather jacket on a barstool.

"You're right," she said quietly, contrition in her tone.

"Okay," he muttered, tiredness in his voice. He put the kettle on to boil and stood opposite the stove as he watched it, his palms flat on the counter in front of him.

He felt her at his back and then the surprise of two arms encircling his waist, her head against his back. "I'm sorry," she whispered.

As her hands met on his stomach he caressed one of them with a long dispirited sigh. "For what in particular?"

"Can you use it for your top issue with me?"

He snorted a laugh. It was cut off when her fingers began unbuttoning his last vest button and snaked their way through his shirt to the bare skin below. After a sharp intake of breath, he looked to the ceiling before he shook his head and placed his hand on hers. "Lisbon-"

"Ssh," she uttered in her most soothing tone, her fingers descending until they arrived at the button of his pants. She popped it easily and he gripped the counter as she lowered his zip. "This isn't how you make things right between us," he said. But he didn't stop her as she began to stroke him gently.

"You want this," she said, "you've wanted this since you saw me again."

He licked his lips and closed his eyes as she continued. The rattle and whistle of the kettle against the stove made him open them again and spur him into action. He turned off the gas quickly and spun around, met her lips in a searing kiss as he backed her towards a barstool.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him back, pulling his head towards hers with both hands violently.

They kissed passionately as he grabbed her roughly by her waist then dug his nails into her ass to draw her even closer against him. As they gasped for air she grinned at him and continued to unbutton his vest rapidly. The oxygen was all he needed to come to his senses. "No," he said, backing away from her. "No."

She looked at him like he was crazy. "What?! Don't tell me you don't want this, Jane." She smirked at the front of his pants. "Pretty sure you do."

He zipped up his pants and buttoned them. With determination, "Not like this, I don't."

Irritated, "Like what, exactly?"

He took a step towards her again, back in charge of his emotions but still breathing heavily. "Not like I'm just anyone to you, Lisbon. And not when you're a few sheets to the wind either."

She shook her head. "I-"

"Don't deny it. You still kiss great but you weren't kissing _me_ just now. I could have been anyone to you. I know the difference, remember?"

He dug in his jacket pocket and pulled out a twenty dollar bill, planted it down on the counter with a flourish. "Here's cab fare back to that bar if sex is all you want tonight. You might need a few more tequilas to see it through, mind, depending on the guy you choose. I might have been a one night stand for you once, Lisbon. But never again. Go someplace else to find it. I guess I'll see you in the morning."

With that, he marched past her towards his bedroom.

* * *

 **A/N: Lisbon's strange behaviour will be explained further in the next chapter before you think I've lost my mind entirely.**


	30. Chapter 30

Chapter 30 – Fear & Loathing

 ** _Sacramento._**

 ** _Around twelve months earlier._**

Clothes and car washing were completed by ten am. Then Lisbon began the decluttering of her small condo, boxing up books and DVDs she would never read again, labelling them for Goodwill before setting them neatly beside her front door. Some tasks accomplished and a bottle of water gulped down later she glanced outside, the sun filtering through the slats in her blinds beckoning her towards its warmth. A run would be nice, she reflected as she watched dust particles dance in the light. A soft breeze was present earlier when she'd washed her car along with just the right amount of heat that made it perfect weather for a jog.

She imagined pounding the pavement, music in her ears as she exercised. She could start out slow, build up her strength gradually until she was on top form again after the events of the past few weeks.

She'd go right upstairs and change into her running gear.

But instead, she stood there in the centre of the room, the soles of her feet stubbornly stuck to the spot.

When she'd washed her car she'd hosed it down from the tap situated at the side of her front door, one hand on her Glock tucked into the back of her pants and a gaze that shifted from side to side continuously until she'd finished.

The whole time she'd been formulating her plan on what to do for the next hour she knew in her heart she wasn't going to make it outside to exercise. Not on the open streets of Sacramento. That doing so would mean she'd be by herself -alone and without the shield of company or a vehicle. She'd pushed those thoughts aside the past few days but now standing in the quietness of her home they formed openly with undeniable force.

Her heart began to race, her breathing quicken.

He could be watching her right at this moment, ready to strike again, to finish off what he started. Or worse. Take her again and subject her to the same ritual before casting her aside to attempt recovery once again. What if that was his plan all along? To merely extend the time before he drew her back into the seductive shadow world she'd lived in that room. To bring her further and further to the brink of hopeless devotion to the drug, extend the sweet taste of addiction before giving her a glance at what rescue and optimism might feel like before starting all over again. To bring Jane closer to the precipice of madness each time he took her. Was that how Red John would win against him ultimately?

"I'm being paranoid," she said to the empty space around her. But instead of an affirmation, her words seemed to echo around the walls in laughter.

"Come on," she urged herself. "Keep it together, Teresa. Just breathe."

Sweat littered her brow, the quietness and the solitude too much to bear suddenly. Birdsong sounded like sirens and she fought to catch her breath. She quickly turned on the radio but the cheery pop tunes grated on her nerves immediately. She switched stations, fingers fighting to find a song that would soothe her. She closed her eyes when she settled on some smooth jazz, attempted to imagine Jane sitting beside her listening along as they drove back from a crime scene. At last, she took a calming breath and her hands stopped shaking. This was better. Then the picture in her mind began to transmute into a different image. Jane's features were slowly covered by a red smile, a line of blood trickling from his forehead onto his nose and settling on his vest in large droplets. In slow motion, he grinned beside her, a freakish version of his most charming smile.

Her eyes flashed open and her breathing sped up again. Somewhere in her head, she knew she was about to hyperventilate and dropped to her knees, her palms flat on the carpet in front of her. _Breathe_ she told herself over and over to stay conscious, to stop panic win out.

Just as she thought she would faint she slowly but surely was able to regulate her breathing.

With unsteady feet, she made it to her kitchen, popped another bottle of water open. She'd never heard of a living nightmare before but she supposed now she'd experienced one.

After sitting at the table for a few moments to compose herself she slowly walked back to the living room and picked up her phone from the coffee table. She called up Jane's name immediately but then her finger hovered over the call button. She frowned as she sat down on her couch, set the phone in front of her until his smiling face turned to a black screen.

"What am I doing?" she said to herself. "You can't run to him every time you have some kind of panic attack."

Nevertheless, she glanced at the phone again, as if she could make him realise she needed him without being the one to reach out. Then she tutted at that thought – she had told him she needed to face this alone. And she had meant it. But now she was alone with nothing but her thoughts and fears running through her head...now that the distraction of him was no longer present...

She jumped to her feet suddenly, bolted across the room to check the front door was locked and bolted. She closed her blinds, suddenly bathing the room in muted darkness. She gathered up the two guns she kept in her living room and checked they were fully loaded and clean by quickly switching on and off a floor lamp. Placing them on the coffee table she straightened them up to give her fingers something to do. She couldn't seem to stop them from shaking for any length of time. In the silence, she watched the front door.

* * *

An hour later she still sat there, like a terrified rabbit afraid to come out of its burrow. Her muscles ached from the tenseness of her posture, the lack of movement. Her phone vibrated on the table, piercing the quiet and startling her with its chirrup. Jane's face flashed on the screen and she breathed out properly for what felt like the first time since he'd left. She grabbed it and answered it immediately, a soft quiver in her voice she tried to swallow down.

"Hey!" she said, attempting a cheery greeting.

Concerned, "Hey yourself. How's it going over there?"

"Oh, I'm fine. How's the case?" _This was better. Something to talk about apart from her. Something else to focus on._

His voice dipped from a smidgen of concern to outright worry. Noise around him ebbed away as he found a quieter spot to talk. "Lisbon? What's going on? You okay?"

"I told you I'm fine, Jane."

"You don't sound like you are."

"I'm just...out of breath. Tired, you know. Been tidying up and...some other stuff. Keeping busy."

"All right." He tone let her know he didn't believe a word of it.

"So, the case?"

"Not as routine as we'd hoped. Looks like there's a connection to a similar homicide an hour or so past Bakersfield. Cho wants us to go check it out."

She glanced at her watch and quickly calculated the travel time there and back to Sacramento. An overnight stay would be required in all likelihood if there were multiple witnesses to interview and review notes from the work of local detectives.

"Oh," she said simply, unable to hide the disappointment in her voice.

"I know. I'm sorry," he replied with genuine regret. "Raincheck?"

"It's okay, Jane. Don't worry. Please. Go do your job."

A thick pause followed. "I can get out of it, Teresa," he said softly. "If you need me-"

"No! Don't be silly. I'm absolutely fine, Jane."

"That's three times you've said that you're fine and I haven't believed one time you've said it."

She sighed. "Okay. I'm...I'm not...fine. But I'm coping. Really."

"You sure?"

"Yes."

She heard him click his tongue on the other end of the line so she spoke quickly to quash his indecision. "Look, I'll call you if I need you to talk me down from the ledge. Okay? Right now I'm all right."

A long exhale. "If you're sure-"

"I am. Now, go. Do Cho proud. And don't make any trouble he has to clean up. He might not be as forgiving as I am in these matters."

She could sense his smile over the line. "Hm, well, we'll see, won't we? But never fear, he's not nearly as much fun to wind up as you are anyway, my dear."

"Bye," she chuckled.

"Bye, Lisbon. Love you."

With that, the line went dead. She stared at the receiver for an inordinate length of time as if she could hold onto some essence of the comfort he had just provided her. Until the warmth that had settled in her stomach from his words gradually wore off and she was reminded she was alone once again, only the images of her torment to keep her company. In that moment, as she sat on her couch and fought with the panic that was slowly rising up inside her again, she knew she had but one choice.

She had to run.

She had to run until she could breathe again, until the ghosts couldn't touch her. She had to run to stop herself obtaining drugs from one of the many street corner dealers she knew in Sacramento.

She had to run to save herself.

She had to run to save _him_.

She had to run so _he_ could catch _him_. For his family.

And for her.

* * *

 ** _Sacramento._**

 ** _Present Day._**

It was too hot for pyjamas he decided quickly. Or he was just currently too hot tempered. Or hot blooded after their aborted make-out session in the kitchen. It didn't matter much which as he dived under the smooth cotton sheets in his boxer shorts in an attempt to cool off. He rubbed his hands over his face as he shook his head. The smartest man in the room? How long since he'd felt like that was true? Certainly not lately with _her_.

He had no idea how to handle her anymore and no clue what was in her head from one moment to the next. It was little comfort that she probably didn't know herself. He breathed deeply and tried to order his thoughts into some kind of cohesiveness. After a few moments, he was able to replace the love for her and excuses he'd made when judging her actions into a more logical and rational view of the bare facts instead. Only then did he make some kind of sense as to the motivation behind the decisions she'd made in his life since her return into it.

A quiet knock came to his door and he was unsurprised she hadn't left the apartment but still largely gratified by that fact too. She opened the door gingerly and poked her head in. Seeing he was awake as the nightlight beside him illuminated his features she walked over to the side of the bed and placed the money he'd left her there silently. She was dressed in her clothes but had kicked off her boots and let down her hair. Sadness radiated off her in waves.

"Sorry about that crack," he said, nodding to the bills.

She shrugged it off like it was nothing compared to what she thought of herself. She sat down on the bed beside him and laid her head in her hands. "I think I'm losing my mind, Jane," she whispered.

He rose from lying down to sitting up and placed a hand on her back gently. "It's going to be okay, Lisbon."

She shook her head wildly. "I can't help it. I can't seem to stop myself treating you like crap. It's like I-I don't know... Like I need to do it or something. Like I'm compelled to. I tell myself I have to stop but I can't. And I don't know why I even keep doing it. I know it's wrong. And I _know_ you don't deserve it. But it's like the nicer you are to me the more I want to treat you badly in return."

"I have a theory," he replied softly.

Her watery eyes poked out from her tresses, questioning him.

"I should have seen it sooner," he started. "You feel yourself getting close to me again. And you like it. You like it quite a lot." He smiled faintly. "But a part of you hates that that's the case too. And maybe even has decided to punish me for it.

"You've told yourself that you can't get close to anyone. That it's in their best interests to keep them at arm's length. That that path leads only to pain and destruction. That you're not worthy of anyone's love, anyone's devotion to you. So you push me away instead. Use any means necessary to do so. You lie to me, withhold from me, attempt to push my fondness for you onto another woman and hope I'd take the bait. Hoped I would so you would have an actual _reason_ to be cross with me.

"And when all that fails...when you still see the affection I have for you, you go to the next level and decide to sleep with someone - anyone - who would mean nothing to you. You hope it would have opened my eyes to who you think you are now – someone irreparably damaged and someone who doesn't deserve to be saved. Or loved."

She stared at him, dumbfounded.

"I should have seen it sooner," he repeated. "It's a pattern quite familiar to me, after all."

She blinked quickly. "I-I hadn't ...I didn't see it. I should have. I never thought about it like that. How I treat you now...it was never intentional. It was never a plan of mine."

He shrugged, "Well, that's where the difference lies between us, I guess."

She grabbed a tissue from the nightstand and blew her nose. "How do I stop?"

"Maybe realise that you're not a terrible person. You just went through a terrible experience. And that someone caring for you is a blessing and not a curse."

She snorted. "Just like that?"

"I never said it would be easy. But now you know the cause of your behaviour perhaps you can find a way to let me catch a break with you every now and then?"

"I'm sorry," she nodded, looking at her toes.

"I know you are. It's okay. And maybe I need to step up and stop treating you with kid gloves too."

"You know if you hadn't shown up at that bar I'm pretty sure I would have slept with that guy," she admitted quietly. "I-I'm not that person, you know. I mean, sure, I've had a few...random hook-ups over the years but-"

"I know who you are, Teresa. And I don't require an explanation. Good to blow off the steam sometimes, huh?"

She blushed. "Yeah. Sometimes, I guess. But it would have been a mistake tonight. A big mistake."

"I agree. If you're going to sleep with some random guy then check their footwear first, woman," he said with a teasing smile.

"Huh?"

"Tasselled loafers, Lisbon. What have I told you about men who wear them, huh?"

She cracked a smile. "And what do your old brown shoes say about you?"

"A little worn in, perhaps, but the years have only made the quality improve and added more softness and suppleness with every step taken. Less ostentatious fuss and far more subtle. In short, substance over show."

She raised an eyebrow with a chuckle. "All that from a pair of shoes, huh?"

He smiled, "Well, feel free to contradict me."

She laughed gently, looking to her lap again with a blush. "I wish it could be like this all the time with us. Feels like it used to."

"It can be if that's what you want."

She expelled a large breath and shook her head. "I don't think it can."

"Why not?"

Another shrug, something in her eyes telling him to back off from further prodding. "Besides, that's just it, Jane. I don't think I know what I want. I wanted to hurt you tonight for no good reason. Then I come on to you the next. I'm embarrassed by that, mortified in fact."

"Largely because of whatever Volker wrote on that piece of paper today. It threw you into a tailspin."

"Please don't ask me what it was again," she said weakly, staring ahead.

"If it's that important, Teresa-"

"Please," she begged. "Please, don't go there, Jane."

He sighed and bit his tongue. He couldn't push her when he saw the defeat in her posture, the weariness and sadness that engulfed her.

"You'll tell me when it feels right?" he asked instead.

She scoffed quietly. "I doubt it'll ever feel right." She turned to him quickly. "Can you let it go?"

"I'm not sure I can, no."

She chewed on her lower lip as she frowned in thought. "Do you believe me when I tell you it has nothing to do with finding Smith?"

He studied her face then nodded. "Yes, I believe that to be true."

"Good. Then...then let's work on finding him. Can you do that...first?"

"You mean instead."

She reddened and nodded. "Yes, I do. But...that's a conversation for another time. Yes?"

He fought between battling her on the matter and prioritising the hunt for Smith. "Reluctantly, yes. We'll focus on Smith." He added firmly, "First."

"Okay."

She yawned loudly in accord.

"When's the last time you slept properly?"

She shrugged. "I have no idea. I'm okay."

"No, you're not. You're exhausted and you don't even drink that much caffeine anymore to keep you sharp. Maybe another reason why you were so gung-ho about wanting to have sex tonight."

"How do you mean?"

"Well, in addition to hurting me, taking some control back in your life and calling the shots by sleeping with someone you also hoped that the physical activity would exhaust you enough that you'd sleep afterwards. Not so sure about that one you picked. Think he was more the wham-bam-thank you, ma'am type."

She blushed at the mention of sex again. "Look, I didn't mean...well, I guess I did...I'm sorry for what happened in the kitchen between us."

"Oh, don't worry about that, most action I've seen in over a year," he quipped.

She held his gaze. "The last thing I want you to believe is that you're like any other guy to me. Like you're _anything_ like that loser in the bar."

"Better footwear for one, huh?"

"Jane-"

He blushed lightly. "I know that, Teresa. It was just...well, it was different from before. Impersonal."

"I know it was. Sorry."

"Why was it impersonal? Him, sure, I get, if it had gone that far. Why with me, though?"

Another shrug.

He watched her expression carefully, unsure if she was lying or not. "To protect yourself from feeling something? Feeling too much?" he tried.

"I-I don't know. Maybe. Or maybe that's all I've got left now to give anyone. I'm not sure I know how to feel anything like I used to, Jane."

"I don't believe that for a second." He sighed. "Anyway, I let it go too far too."

"Thanks for stopping us making that mistake."

"I don't agree it would have been a mistake. Just not right now."

She looked away from him then, changed the subject abruptly. "I'll talk to Volker again tomorrow. I'll be okay now with him now the shock has worn off."

"Are you trying to convince me of that or yourself?"

"I _have_ to talk to him again, Jane, so I will."

"Actually you don't."

She faced him again. "Why not?"

"Two reasons. I believe he knows nothing about where Smith is or how to contact him. He just wants to play a game. With you, specifically. Let you believe he knows more than he does just to play you, affect you. Worked wonders today, didn't it?

"And the other reason we don't need him is that we have another possible lead that might actually get us closer to finding Smith."

Surprised, "You do?"

He smiled, "Margo Wells came in today and confessed to hiring Smith to make Jessica disappear. Didn't take much prodding. As I suspected she only wanted Jessica to be out of her and her brother's lives. She didn't realise what she was subjecting the woman to until her body showed up."

"So she can contact Smith?" Lisbon asked with excitement.

"Not as easy as that. She'd replied to an ad of sorts on the dark web-"

"Wait – like a 'you want someone disappeared advertisement, call this number?!'" she asked incredulously.

"Along those lines, yes. Van Pelt has found worse on there by all accounts. Anyway, she posted a response, a couple of encrypted emails later everything was arranged."

"She paid for this... _service_ , presumably. The money trail-"

"A bit coin transaction, unfortunately."

"Damn. And the emails?"

"No trail there either. They communicated through draft emails only-"

Lisbon was ahead of him. "So no way of the authorities intercepting them as any messages weren't actually sent. Clever."

"Very - according to Grace."

"Then how is this a lead?"

"I said it was a possible lead. Van Pelt has responded to the same 'advertisement' under a pseudonym with a fake ID she set up. Hoping he'll bite."

"Even if he does what does it get us? There's no way we can track him if he uses the same methods of communication. And who is Van Pelt's target?"

"Herself. He targets women, not men. As far as we know, anyway."

Lisbon shook her head. "She's putting herself in danger. And won't he be suspicious if it's a CBI employee someone wants to vanish?"

"Absolutely. But he'll also be intrigued. It's tempting for him. We know for whatever reason you were special to him. Perhaps he'll want to see if Van Pelt could be just as special. She wants to do this, Lisbon."

"No. No, she doesn't know what she's taking on. Believe me."

"We'll be watching. Cho has someone on her 24/7. And I doubt Rigsby will leave her side for the foreseeable future."

She got off the bed and stood with her hands on her hips. "I don't like this one bit. I can't believe Cho sanctioned it!"

"She's a trained agent-"

"So was I!"

Calmly, "I'm well aware of that. But you didn't know he was coming after you. She does. There's a difference."

"Not much of one as far as I'm concerned."

He sighed. "Well, it's not your call and it isn't mine. It's hers. Are you saying you wouldn't do the same yourself if the positions were reversed?"

"That...that doesn't come into it."

"Yes, it does. Look, I'm not entirely happy about this play either but, for now, it's the best we've got. He's going to be going after someone else very soon. If he hasn't already, that is. You'd rather he grab an unsuspecting woman in her stead? Whereas this could save someone's life and allow us to put a stop to what he does for good. I know it's risky but sometimes we have to take risks to catch them."

She sat back down again with a sigh. "So her life doesn't matter."

"I never said that. But what's the alternative?"

"I talk with Volker. You say he knows nothing about Smith. I'm not convinced."

"Lisbon-"

"Jane, we don't know what he does or doesn't know. He _could_ help us. And even if he can't it makes sense to try again. I screwed that up today. I need to make that right and try again. And why only have one iron in the fire when we can have two?"

"Because that second iron almost sent you on a spiral of self-destruction this evening!"

She licked her lips. "I told you I can handle another meeting with him."

"Why should I believe you after today? Especially when you won't tell me what he has on you."

"You agreed to drop that-"

"How am I supposed to trust you when you won't tell me everything?-"

She got off the bed. "I don't know how you're supposed to trust me, Jane. How did I get by all those years with you, huh? Guess you'll have to adapt." Irritated, "Besides, it's not you I have to convince. I'll talk to Cho myself tomorrow about it."

"You do that. And he very well might agree with you. But whatever it is Volker has on you, he will use it against you, Lisbon. You'd be better served coming clean about it first. And if he does know anything about Smith then he'll work himself into a better position by doing so. And work you into a worse one, either by compromising your integrity or sending you into a freefall. Or a combination of the two. He wants to play with you, Lisbon. He doesn't care about anything else. Don't let him. Take it from someone who knows the type."

* * *

 **A/N: As I am finally approaching the finish line with my other story Reconnect I am going to be taking a short break in updating this one until it is done. I am working hard at tying up an array of plot points for it so it requires my full attention or I may never get there! Thank you for your understanding. Be back with this one as soon as I can. Fingers crossed it won't be too long.**


	31. Chapter 31

**A/N: Thank you for your patience. As Reconnect is proving tough to complete thought I'd revisit this universe for a respite.**

 **Some dialogue contained in this chapter has been borrowed from the episode 'There will be blood'.**

 **Also, I guess I should also mention that I am playing a little fast and loose with some canon elements, timeframes and airing of episodes in order (for example, Volker has not yet been arrested in this diversion from canon). Hope it doesn't cause too much confusion.**

* * *

Chapter 31 - Moving On

 _ **Sacramento.**_

 _ **Around twelve months earlier.**_

Jane balanced coffee and tea in one hand and a bag of freshly baked croissants courtesy of Marie's in the other. He walked up the path to Lisbon's condo with a spring in his step despite the early morning drive back from Bakersfield. The case closed late the night before with just a minor scuffle and one pending complaint he considered it an unqualified success.

Bouncing on his toes lightly as he arrived at the door he noticed her car was not parked in the driveway so used the spare key he'd purloined to let himself in, assuming she'd driven nearby for her morning caffeine fix.

"Lisbon!" he called as he entered through force of habit and a sudden thought that perhaps her car was in the shop.

Receiving nothing but silence in response he moved towards the kitchen and removed a plate for the croissants and butter and jam from the fridge in case she was in need of an extra buttery or sweet fix upon her return. As he turned and removed the lid of his tea to take a sip a white envelope caught his eye, one of its corners glinting brightly as the sun hit it as it lay on the breakfast counter. The butterflies he was experiencing upon seeing her again were replaced with a sudden sense of dread. Unsurprised the envelope bore his name he stared at it for a long moment in any case. It wasn't hard to figure what was written inside. He just didn't want to open it and be proven right.

He closed his eyes briefly and turned it in his hands with a deep breath as he broke the seal and withdrew the single sheet of paper held inside. Handwritten by her he read the words in silence.

 _Jane_

 _You probably already know what this letter contains before you even read it. You probably knew as soon as you saw the envelope._

 _And, first of all, I want to apologise for my cowardice in not doing this face to face. The truth is that I wasn't sure I'd be able to go through with this if I actually spoke to you in person._

 _So here goes..._

 _I need to get away. I don't think I can do this here. Get better, I mean. You mentioned a change of scene might be good for me but I wasn't ready to listen. But now I hear you. Loud and clear. I want you to know I haven't taken anything but I'm afraid I might if I stay. As much as I don't want to think about that I just might. And I don't want you to see me like that if I do. Or blame yourself for it if it happens._

 _This place isn't good for me right now. The walls are closing in and I can't breathe. I'm scared like I never have been before in my life. So I'm going to take your advice and take some time away from here. Figure out how I can conquer this. Take some power back and take control of the situation I've found myself in. It's what I know I need to do. Take some time to heal until I feel more like myself again. I've never travelled much but I'm going to do a little of that, I think, feel some of that fresh air on my face you always say is good for people. I'll see if you're right. You normally are. And, hey, it gives you a break from babysitting duties too, huh? And while I'm away it allows you to do what you're meant to be doing too. It'll be a win-win for both of us, you'll see._

 _Catch him, Jane. I know you will. Make it my homecoming present if you can._

 _And now here comes the hardest part. Please don't contact me while I'm gone. And please ask the others to do the same. I need to do this myself. And I need quiet too for a while. Radio silence as you'd call it. I'll be in touch when I'm ready to come back. And I WILL be back. I promise you that. And then maybe we can have that talk you mentioned the other day. If you still want to, that is. But maybe you need some time to think about that too. I'm not sure either one of us really_ _knows_ _what we want right now. Never mind how 'we' might work practically. Thinking time will be good for both of us, I'm sure of that. I hope you can see that too._

 _But I promise I'm going to be okay. I just need to get on the other side of this. And I will. I won't let this beat me._

 _So you have to promise me that you'll be okay too. So please don't be sad or brood in that attic of yours after you read this. And please try to rein in that reckless streak in you. Please believe you have something more than catching him to live for._

 _Consider those my last orders as your boss (for now). Although why you'd listen to me now when you rarely have before I don't know. Maybe the fact I've put pen to paper means it might stay with you. I'll hope for that, anyway._

 _Oh, one last thing._

 _Talk to Cho more. As much as you think you're the lone ranger sometimes (and I will get you that superhero costume one day!) he's a good listener. And can be as just a good friend to you as I've been. You know you can trust him. Confide in him when you need to. Please. I know he'll look out for you and_ _God_ _knows you need that sometimes._

 _So I'm going to get in my car now and see where the open road takes me._

 _Take care and I'll see you soon._

 _Lisbon_

Jane's eyes focused on the last line.

 _P.S. That thing you said to me in my office before you shot me...you know it goes both ways, right?_

He smiled through a misty gaze and put the paper back in its envelope. As he placed it in his inside jacket pocket he exhaled loudly. Part of him was sad, of course. But part of him was hopeful, too. She sounded more like his Lisbon as he'd read the note. But you couldn't read someone's expression from a piece of paper. He was certain some of her words were merely an attempt to make him worry less. He knew better. She was nowhere near as put together as she'd relayed. And probably partly why she didn't want to be contacted. It wouldn't be as easy to fool him over a call. He'd worry anyway, of course, but he had to give it to her for trying.

He quickly came to a decision. He'd abide by her wishes and give her the space she needed. She'd be back soon enough and until then he'd refocus all efforts on catching Red John. A sliver of guilt crept up his spine that he felt oddly reinvigorated by her discharging him of his duties with regards to caring for her. For now. He knew better than anyone that seeking revenge meant you had to be purposeful, driven, single-minded. It would have been a struggle to serve two masters if she'd stayed. She'd said as much herself.

His cell vibrated in his pocket and interrupted his thoughts. He fished it out. "Hey, Cho, what's up?" he said into the receiver. "You not going to allow a man to catch up on some sleep?"

"It's Lorelei Martins, Jane," Cho responded grimly.

Focused again, "What happened?"

"SAC PD just dropped off some video footage of her torturing and killing someone."

He frowned, "Who did she kill?"

"Woman named Julia Howard at her home. Single, thirty-eight, managed a Battered Women's shelter here. Why would Martins kill her?"

"Hm. Don't know. Interesting, though. Text me the address, will you?"

"Will do. Report to Rigsby at the scene. Have to go meet Bertram at the Capitol." A thick pause followed. "You think we should give Lisbon a heads up? He mentioned Bob Kirkland from Homeland Security wants in on this and she's dealt with him before. She up to a meeting?"

Jane looked around the empty living space and sighed, "No, Cho. Looks like we're on our own."

* * *

"Why would she kill Julia Howard?" Cho trained a keen eye on Jane as they convened in Lisbon's office later that day.

"She wouldn't have unless she had a very good reason."

"That Howard was involved somehow in the death of Martins' sister? Revenge for that?"

"Partly that, I expect. Partly to discover if Red John was part of it."

"You trust her? That she'll come to you with who he is when she finds out for sure?"

"I have no other option but to trust her."

Cho tapped a pen on the desk. "Has she been in contact with you since Lisbon's release?"

"No."

"Would you tell me if she had?"

Jane smiled enigmatically. "Maybe. Maybe not."

Irritated, "Jane-"

Jane rose from the chair. "Look, got stuff to do, good talk. Talk to you in the morning, Cho."

As he went for the door Cho said, "I'm not Lisbon, Jane. I'm not going to cover for you-"

Jane frowned then smiled pleasantly, "Have I asked you to?"

"Only a matter of time before you need me to."

The two men looked at each other silently in a stalemate before Jane sighed. "I need to allow Lorelei to find out the truth for herself about Red John's role in her sister's death. So, no, if she gets in touch I probably won't tell you about it if it means you stopping her. Not until I get a name from her."

"Then we have a problem."

Jane shrugged. "Then I guess we do."

Cho contemplated before he spoke again. "Like I said, I'm not Lisbon. I want him caught by any means necessary. Whatever it takes. But you need to trust me so that I _can_ cover your back if I have to. But if she kills someone again and I discover you could have prevented it then it's a different conversation."

Jane bounced on his toes lightly as he thought. "Okay, that's fair. I'll bear that in mind."

Cho's voiced lowered as he surveyed the paperwork that surrounded him. "Did Lisbon say when she'd be back?"

"No."

"You really think running away from this is good for her recovery?"

Jane tucked his hands in his jacket pockets with a shrug. "I don't know. But what I do know is that being here right now is not good for her."

Cho nodded thoughtfully. "Okay. Night, Jane."

* * *

Jane let himself into the property at Orchid Lane, the secondary address in Davis he'd found for Julia Howard at the Women's Shelter, with his trusty lock pick set.

As he began to look around the bedroom, picking up a metal wire and pocketing it for further inspection later, a noise caught his attention from the living area.

He found Lorelei Martins sitting comfortably in an armchair when he walked back into the front room.

"Lorelei."

She rose with a seductive smile to greet him. "Did you miss me?"

Evenly, "You murdered someone."

"What did you think I was gonna do when you set me free, Patrick?"

He continued, "Tortured them."

She almost rolled her eyes. "I knew you'd be upset. You're not as tough-minded as you think you are. That's why I wanted to see you. I haven't gone off the rails. I promise. I know what I'm doing. Julia Howard got _exactly_ what she deserved. She helped kill my sister."

"Helped who?"

"Not Red John. She didn't know him. But I know who to go to next."

He pointed out, "Well, whoever that is they work with Red John."

"Maybe. Maybe not. I'm going to find out."

He prodded, "Someone from the Shelter?"

She scoffed quietly. "I have to go, Patrick."

"You're foolish doing this on your own. Let me help you."

"No. I've done terrible things. Unforgivable things. There's no way back. You and me are on different roads, I hope."

As she went to kiss his cheek he drew back and took hold of her arm instead in a firm grip. "You're going to end up dead if you continue like this. And I can't protect you from him or the CBI if either one of them catches you first."

She smiled with a faraway look in her eye. "Everyone dies in the end, Patrick. I'm okay with that."

"And if you die first? Then what am I to do?"

She drew back slightly, barely noticed the pain shooting up her arm as he gripped it tighter. "You'll just have to trust me that won't happen first then, won't you?" She looked down at his hand on her arm. Fiercely, "Now let me go before I hurt you."

He hesitated before he let her arm drop to the side. As she turned to leave he said, "I do trust you. Up to a point. But I'm also prepared to kill you myself if you're playing me."

She turned back and tilted her head to the side in a silent question. Then, "You really mean that, don't you? That you'd kill me if I betray you?"

Stony faced, "Don't make it come to that to find out."

She licked her lips before they curled upwards. "Bye, lover."

* * *

"She left?" Cho stated as Jane and he stood in the living room shortly after.

"Yeah, you just missed her. How'd you find me anyway?"

"Knew you were up to something. Rigsby found the address tonight. Guess you did too at the Shelter."

Sheepishly, "Ah...yeah, I did."

"Did you know Lorelei would be here?"

"No. Honestly."

"Okay. So?"

He shrugged, "Like I said before. Her motivation remains centred on discovering if Red John was involved in her sister's death. Howard was involved just like I said."

"She tell you who she was going after next?"

"No."

Cho crossed his arms over his chest, raised an eyebrow.

Jane held his hands up. "If she had I'd be there right now, wouldn't I? Because whoever it is knows Red John in all likelihood."

"All right," Cho sighed. "Bertram called me on the way over here. He wants an update in the morning. What do you suggest I tell him?"

"Well, you're not going to divulge any of this to him, are you? What would be the point? It would only make the unit look bad that she's a step ahead of us. And right now with Lisbon gone we don't need any more trouble from him. Never mind Kirkland's involvement."

Cho shook his head. "You're a piece of work. Your only concern is for her to be free to lead you to Red John. You don't give a damn about anything else including the unit's reputation. But...yeah, you're right. I'll keep quiet about it. For now."

* * *

"So she was about to abduct one of the trustees of the Shelter?" Rigsby said to Jane as they surveyed the scene at the Fairchild Hotel where a security guard had been wounded by Lorelei Martins.

Both men stood looking at the group of four individuals who were being questioned by a uniformed officer.

"Any idea which one?" Rigsby asked.

"No."

* * *

The team convened back in the office later that day. "So I looked into the Shelter and I found something strange." Rigsby pointed at a notebook in front of him as he spoke. "This is the Shelter's official record. Miranda's name is missing."

"We know that already," Cho said.

"Right. But the Shelter also keeps a daily tally for State records. It doesn't list names but it keeps track of the number of women staying there. Here's what's weird. During Miranda's stay there's a discrepancy between the two records. In the tally there's a woman unaccounted for."

"Means someone was doctoring the books."

"Yeah. Someone was trying to erase evidence of Miranda Roman's stay."

Jane cut in, "Not someone. Julia Howard."

Rigsby nodded. "There's more. It's not the first time it happened. So far I've found five instances of women unaccounted for."

"It's a pattern," Jane agreed. "It's what it's all about."

Cho stated, "Okay. We'll release the trustees but surveil their properties. Rigsby you take Kevin Rome. Van Pelt you take Melissa Enfield. I'll take Stephen Doppler-"

"And I'll take Jason Lennon," Jane finished.

"You can't go there by yourself," Cho told him.

Jane rolled his eyes. "Fine. I'll take Karl with me for backup."

Cho cast him a steely gaze. "You better not ditch him or trick him if Lorelei shows up there."

"I won't. I don't care if she's arrested as long as I know who her contact is. Either he or she talks or if they won't out of loyalty to Red John then Lorelei will have to give us Red John's name if she finds herself in custody again. Because her going after some of _his_ people like she has now is the ultimate betrayal. He won't be able to let that go. She'll have to help us if she's going to get any type of justice for her sister's murder."

* * *

 _ **Sacramento.**_

 _ **Present Day.**_

Cho sat in his office chair as Lisbon stood opposite the desk. "First off, I'm sorry about yesterday. I mishandled that situation with Volker. I allowed him to get to me and I shouldn't have." She smiled weakly, "Guess I'm a little out of practice letting scumbags take a shot at me. I apologise, Cho."

"Happens. How you feeling?"

"Ah...better today. Thanks."

He nodded slowly and then glanced at the couch in the bullpen. "Jane tells me that you want to speak to Volker again."

She smirked in annoyance. "He got in ahead of me, huh? I suppose you think it's a bad idea too, huh?"

He leant back in his chair and studied her. "Yes."

"Cho-"

"For now."

"For now?"

"Volker wants to talk to you again. That much was obvious. He's still interested in you. Maybe more so since you got away from him before. Why make it easy for him? Let's see what he does first. Make him wait. Make him want it more."

She contemplated that course of action. Deflated, "I guess that makes some kind of sense. So you think he's withholding what he knows about Smith too?"

"Not necessarily. But it's worth a shot if we get no hits with Van Pelt to try again."

"You think that's such a wise play with Grace?"

He shrugged. "She wants to do it and we're out of leads presently. We got nothing questioning the gun show contacts. Either said they didn't recognise him or said they'd only spoken to him briefly. And they only knew him by Smith and talk centred on weaponry, not his background. No one we questioned said they sold him anything so no receipts, no address to track him. Obvious some were lying but no proof of that."

"Well, people lie. And there are off market sales at those types of events all the time."

"Agreed. What do you suggest we do about it?"

She took a seat opposite. "Is there another show soon where some of the same dealers will be present?"

"Probably. What are you thinking? Sting operation?"

"More like surveillance. We get cameras in there and see who shows up."

"You think Smith will show up-"

"No. Well, I don't know. Maybe but I'd doubt it. Be a long shot if he did, wouldn't it? But doesn't mean other less...reputable buyers wouldn't be in attendance at such an event."

He smiled slightly. "So we discover an illegal trade taking place and bring both parties in. Squeeze the dealer for information on Smith in exchange for leniency."

"Better than just sitting on our hands. It's worth a shot if you can get budget approval for the surveillance."

"I'll talk to Hudson about it."

"Better keep my name out of it when you do."

He scoffed. "Yeah, will do."

She got up from the chair. "Okay, I'll get out of your hair."

As she went to go he pointed to a stack of files perched at the corner of his desk. "If you want to stick around we could use some help with some other cases. Fresh set of eyes."

Touched, "I'm not an agent anymore, Kimball. You don't have to make me feel like I'm still part of the team. I'm good being on the periphery. Honestly."

He leant back in his chair. "I wasn't thinking about how you feel. We could use the help, that's all. Up to you."

She hesitated as her eyes strayed to the folders, fingers on one hand twitching to touch the familiar rough manila. She pulled back and shook her head. "Maybe another time."

"Okay."

He went back to work with a shrug.

When she reached the door she asked him, "Why haven't you asked me what Volker wrote down yesterday? Everyone else has."

Without looking up, "If you wanted to tell me you would have. Presumed it didn't relate to the case or you'd have told me by now."

She nodded as she opened the door. "Thanks, Cho."

"This is still a safe place," he murmured under his breath.

Her head turned, "Hm?"

He looked her in the eye. "If you need to talk about it. Goes no further. Jane won't hear it from me."

She chewed on her bottom lip thoughtfully. "Okay. Thanks, Kimball."

* * *

Lisbon padded barefoot to the kitchen in her sleep jersey. She stopped short when she spied Jane sitting on the rug in front of the fire, his back to the couch. A long spherical tin of what appeared to be cookies sat beside him. She looked more closely and saw him reach in and remove a photograph from the tin. Her mother had stored family photographs in the same manner, a hotchpotch of shots that had never made it into photo albums gathered over the years.

She was afraid to take another step. Afraid to breathe in case she intruded on the intimate scene she'd inadvertently walked in on. But she couldn't look away and, from the shadows, watched avidly as he ran his fingers lightly over the image in front of him. She couldn't see his face but the hunch in his shoulders and the reverence with which he held the picture spoke volumes. As he replaced one photo and removed another with an audible heartbreaking sigh she let out an involuntary one of her own.

"Hey, Lisbon," he said then, a brightness to his tone she knew he didn't feel, a crack in it he couldn't cover up. "Can't sleep again?"

"I'm-I'm sorry, Jane. I wasn't-"

"Spying on me?" he said with more amusement, his back to her.

She resumed her walk with a heavy plod. "I was just going to try some hot milk. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to intrude. I should have said something but-"

"You want to take a look?" he interrupted, turning his head towards her and holding the photograph in his hand.

"Uh," she frowned. "You sure you want me to? It's very personal and-"

He patted the floor beside him. "Come on, I know you're just as nosey as I am sometimes."

"Am not," she said with a slight smile.

"Are too," he grinned.

His face fell into earnestness and a shyness he rarely displayed to the world. "I'd...I'd like you too...I'd like to share..." He nodded to the cookie tin, "...this part of my life with you. If you want to, that is."

It took her a long moment to respond. "Okay," she finally managed to nod.

He moved the tin to the opposite side so she could scooch up to his right. She drew her legs beneath her and pulled her jersey to cover her knees. He'd already prepared an image when she got comfortable and handed it to her. She smiled at the picture of Charlotte immediately, blue eyes grinning back at her as she wore a bright orange pumpkin costume that looked much too big for her four year old tiny frame. She preened for the camera, proudly showing off her look.

"Halloween?" Lisbon enquired, still smiling.

"Presume so," he shrugged. "Although she did like to dress up at all sorts of random times," he smiled. "But, yes, I think so, in this one."

"You don't remember for sure?" Lisbon frowned. "Doesn't sound like you to forget something like that."

He licked his lips and peered at the photograph with a long sigh. "I wasn't there. So I can't be sure."

"Oh."

Sadness crept over him like a dark cloak. "I missed all of them."

"You missed every Halloween? Why?"

"I was a psychic, remember? My busiest night of the year."

"Of course. I'm sorry, Jane."

He shrugged and let out a long breath. "Yeah, me too. Guess we all have regrets like that in life. Taken one path when we should have taken another. I'm no different."

"Hindsight's 20/20 as they say," she agreed.

"You ever feel that way about leaving how you did? Ever regret it?"

Her fingers toyed with the edge of her jersey, her gaze downwards. "Sure. Sometimes."

He smiled lightly, "Care to elaborate?"

"Not really."

He chuckled softly. "Okay then. Message received."

She looked at him then, eyes shining, "I just don't like to think about it much. The past year, I mean. I'd rather try to move on. Focus on the present."

His eyes drifted to the cookie tin and she shook her head. "I don't mean that you shouldn't reflect, Jane. If that's what you need to do and that helps you move on then you absolutely should. Does it help? Looking at these photographs? Reliving the memories?"

"I have no idea," he sighed as he ran a hand over his face.

"But when you've looked at them before-"

"This is the first time I've looked at these photographs in over a decade, Lisbon."

Surprised, "Tonight was the first time?"

"Yeah. When I sold my house I added some things to my storage facility. I was about to leave and I saw the tin...had the idea that maybe it was time to open it. Deal with the feelings it would stir up. Face my fears kind of thing."

"But you've lived here for months...so why tonight?"

He shrugged noncommittally. "Good a night as any other."

"No," she replied with determination. "You don't do anything without a reason. Why tonight, Jane?"

He pursed his lips in a thin line then looked her in the eye. Her cheeks flushed as he continued to stare at her without talking. Finally he said, "She would have been sixteen today." He glanced at a clock on the mantle. "Well, yesterday actually. Now."

"Oh Christ, Jane. I'm sorry-"

"It's okay, Teresa."

"No, it's not. I had no idea you were going through this and I should have. That trip to the beach, she's been on your mind more than usual and I should have realised why. Instead I was acting out and treating you like crap."

Amused, "Well, you've been a distraction, that's for sure. And, if I'm being honest, taken my mind off my grief which I'm a little grateful for."

She rolled her eyes. "Well, any time. Happy to help being a basket case."

He looked at the photograph again.

"Can you imagine me if I had a sixteen year to parent?"

"Of _course_ I can."

They locked eyes, the sincerity clear in her words. The unsaid compliment that he'd have been a good father if his child had grown up. "Thank you."

She lightened the conversation. "And I can certainly imagine how you'd treat any potential boyfriends. Poor guys."

He grinned, "That would have been fun." His face fell immediately afterwards. "Would have been," he repeated quietly.

She placed a hand on his, fingers gently caressing the skin.

He smiled through a grimace and went to put the photograph back in the tin. "Well, maybe that's enough soul searching for one night."

As he went to put the lid on she spied another one that immediately got her attention. "Wait! Let me see that one first."

He went to hide it and she reached over his body to grab it. "You are so busted!" she laughed.

He chuckled as she grinned gleefully, "Hey! It was the style at the time!"

She took the photo off him roughly and peered at it closely. "A white suit? Seriously? Who'd you think you were back then, Don Johnson?"

He went to take it back. "Okay. Enough, woman."

She held it away from him and continued, "And what's with the moustache and beard?! And the hair! You couldn't afford a haircut?!"

Soon he was wrestling it out of her grip as she continued to laugh. "I'm going to get this blown up and give it to Cho to blackmail you in the future," she giggled.

"Okay, you asked for it," he laughed, poking her sides to tickle her.

"No!" she screamed.

Devilishly, "Oh but yes." He tickled her again until she fell onto her back as he hovered above her.

Breathless, they were suddenly aware of the positions of their bodies, the rapid rise and fall of their chests. They stopped laughing as milky thighs caught his gaze and he swallowed hard as she stared back at him. Her expression aroused but laced with fear he moved off her slowly and grabbed the photo in her hand. He joked unconvincingly as he placed it back in the tin rapidly to avert his wandering gaze, "We were almost in a scene from a terribly cheesy romcom for a second there."

"Yeah," she agreed with flushed cheeks, pulling herself up into a sitting position. "Almost!" she squeaked, her voice maddeningly high-pitched.


	32. Chapter 32

Chapter 32 – Stubbornness

 **A/N:** **Some dialogue contained in this chapter has been borrowed from the episode 'There will be blood'.**

* * *

 ** _Sacramento._**

 ** _Around twelve months earlier._**

Jane tapped his forefinger to his lips, eyes trained on Jason Lennon's house as he and Karl sat in the front seat of the black SUV. His right knee jerking from side to side, he muttered under his breath, "Come on, will you?"

Suddenly, he registered a shadowy small figure out of the corner of his eye, scampering quickly like a rabbit as it ran hunched down. As he opened his mouth to warn his colleague Lorelei arrived at the driver's door. Window open she cracked the base of a gun over Karl's temple as he drew his weapon, rendering him unconscious.

She raised her weapon and aimed it at Jane in the passenger seat. Then, with a glimmer of a smile, she lowered it as she nodded to him as he sat mouth agape. She said, "He'll be fine. Are you coming or not? But you try to stop me and I will kill you, Patrick."

She was out of view before he could get his seatbelt off.

As he ran in pursuit he fished his phone out of his pocket then paused as he looked at the name he'd instinctively gone to call first, the photograph of Lisbon glowing against the darkness surrounding him. He shook his head, scrolled down to Cho and made the call.

"Cho? Jane. It's Lennon. Lorelei is here. Karl's injured. Send an EMT and backup."

He hung up as Cho responded ordering him to hold back until help arrived.

He glanced at the house, saw Lorelei had already broken in, could hear the smashing of furniture and raised voices inside. He ran on.

* * *

He showed up as Lennon lay prostrate on the ground, groaning as a series of kicks from Lorelei pushed him into a foetal position, flashes from a Tazer illuminating his terrified face like lightning streaks.

Jane was speechless momentarily, each kick registering in a part of his brain that he should try to stop her. But he stood beside her instead, looked from one to the other. "She will kill you," he told the man on the ground with an evenness to his tone that mildly surprised his compassionate side. "Tell her what you did. Tell her what happened."

Breathless, Lennon shook his head. "I-I don't even know what this is about! Help me!"

Jane knelt down and spoke softly. "She doesn't want to hurt you. But she doesn't know how else to get the truth from you." He glanced at Lorelei briefly. "It's all she knows. All she's been taught. Pain. How to inflict it. And how to accept it. Wish for it, even."

Lorelei frowned as he spoke to Lennon again in the same soft sing song voice. "It's part of her conditioning, you see."

"But I don't know anything!" Lennon whimpered.

"Patrick," she responded, irritated. "Either get the answers I want or get out of my way!"

Jane ignored her, voice like honey as he talked to Lennon. "Lorelei thinks this is just about her sister but we both know better, don't we?"

Crying, "What are you talking about?!"

"You remember those other five women from the Shelter? The ones Julia helped you with? Julia. Your partner. She found the most vulnerable women and brought them to you to your house."

"This is crazy! I'm a good person!"

"Okay. So you didn't rape them?"

"No!"

"You didn't murder them? You didn't bind their legs and feet with fishing line?"

"No."

Jane pulled the fishing wire out of his pocket. "So this isn't familiar to you?"

A pause. Quietly, "No."

Lennon fell back on his back with a deep sigh. Jane came closer to his face. "Jason, look at me. I'm the law. I _have_ to take you in. I can't hurt you. I can't kill you."

He pointed to Lorelei as she stood behind him. "But she _can._ And if you don't tell me the truth right now I'm going to get up and walk out of here and leave you two alone."

Panicked, "No! Please!"

Jane smiled, "All right. Now you see it's useless lying to me. Tell me the truth."

Resigned, a hollow laugh followed as Lennon spoke. "I. Work. For. Red. John."

Jane sighed, "Yeah."

"He wanted Miranda for some reason. I don't know why. He knew her boyfriend was abusing her and she was vulnerable. He told me to send Julia to counsel her to persuade her to come to the Shelter. Julia brought Miranda to me. And I brought Miranda to Red John."

Jane stood up beside Lorelei. "What did Red John do to her?"

"You _know_ what he did to her."

Firmly, "She needs to hear it."

Lennon paused, stared at Lorelei. "Red John killed Miranda."

Under his breath Jane murmured, "I'm sorry."

Lorelei took a moment to respond as she looked at the man on the ground. She swallowed, composed herself, mask in place again. "Thank you, Patrick."

She began to pack up her tools of torture as Jane walked away from Lennon. As she put on her leather jacket Jane stood opposite her, waiting expectantly. "Tell me," he said in a determined whisper.

Tetchily, "Tell you what?"

"Red John's name."

She opened her mouth just as the red flash of a police vehicle's light caught their attention. Hardness instantly covered her expression. "You called the police on me?!"

"You injured a colleague of mine. What was I supposed to do?"

"I told you he'd be fine!"

"You couldn't possibly know that." Fiercely, "Look, we don't have much time. Just tell me who he is and I'll take care of it for both of us. I promise you that."

She shook her head, drew her weapon from her bag and aimed it at Jane.

"Isn't this becoming tiresome for you? What is killing me going to achieve? How will that get you or I our justice?! Or is your plan to take me hostage?"

She scoffed. "They'd shoot you in the leg then kill me if I even attempted that."

Confounded, "Then what?-"

As the words left his lips she altered her aim with a smirk to the man on the ground instead. She pummelled three shots into Lennon's chest as Jane cried out, "No!"

Cho and his team burst through the front door, yelling for her to put her weapon down with their guns poised and aiming at the woman with the gun. Lorelei smiled at Jane as she dropped her weapon and raised her hands in surrender. She looked at Jane like she'd just checkmated him. "Now what will you do, Patrick?"

Enraged he took a step forward as Rigsby handcuffed her. He bore down on her. "He will kill you in prison! You know that! Tell me who he is!"

Sweetly, "No. So you better come up with a plan before that happens, lover."

* * *

"Let me have one more shot at her," Jane urged Cho as they reconvened back at the CBI.

"Kirkland will be here to pick her up any minute. Bertram has agreed to the transfer."

Annoyed, "Then that is exactly why time is of the essence."

Cho nodded, "Fine. But you better be quick about it."

* * *

Jane entered the interrogation room, Lorelei's hand and feet shackled as she sat at a table, a jumpsuit in place of her clothes. "Hello, Patrick," she said with a smile.

"Lorelei."

He sat opposite and steepled his fingers with his elbows on the table, index fingers tapping against his lips. He stared at her silently and she raised an eyebrow, a satisfied look of self satisfaction on her face. He exhaled, straightened up and relaxed his posture. Calmly, "So this is how it ends? You allow him to win in order to spite me?"

She shrugged. "I have faith in you that you'll come up with a solution that will serve both our interests."

He snorted a laugh. "Then you are out of your mind. Let me tell you what _will_ happen. He will end you. Just like he had Miranda killed he will have you killed. You will _never_ get the justice for Miranda that you desire. You will _never_ get what you want most in this world right now. You need to accept that. You need to accept that and allow someone else to get it for you. That is your only option now."

She shook her head, her face serene. "I wish I could, Patrick. But I can't."

"Lorelei-"

"What would you do in my position? Hm? It's not a question of _want_. It's a question of _need_. Because we both need the same thing, don't we? We need to look him in the eye and have him admit to what he has done. You won't accept less than that. And neither will I. And if I die before that happens then that is what is meant to be."

* * *

Later that night, Jane let himself into Lisbon's condo, an arrangement quickly made with the owner that he would check in on it in her absence periodically. Money was as good an incentive for people to drop their ethics as ever he'd thought as he'd plied the older man with dollar bills until he'd hit on the right figure. Most people (or the principle of privacy for their tenant, in this case) were for sale, it was just the amount that needed haggling on.

Dust bunnies circled in the air as he locked the door behind him and he made a mental note to hire a cleaner to maintain the condo the way she'd left it. He went to her kitchen, removed the tea supplies he'd brought with him from a brown paper bag, put some milk in the fridge. Lisbon used a long shelf life creamer instead of it as a rule, and he'd almost gagged the first time she'd made him a cup of tea although he never let it show. Well, he reasoned, she had just been shot and almost fired from her job on that occasion largely because of him. She didn't need his pertinacity where tea making was concerned to add to her troubles that day. But he had thrown the insipid beverage into a nearby bush as soon as he'd left her house with a promise to plant another one in its stead.

After making himself a cup he strolled around her living room with it in hand, peering at her CD and book collection. He was already well acquainted to what she listened to (an eclectic mix of smooth jazz, 80s rock bands and 90s pop music) and read (management manuals and autobiographies, mainly) but being among her things calmed his thinking - marginally. He had been certain Lorelei would fold in the face of prison and the death that would surely await her there. That she would tell him Red John's identity. He'd clearly miscalculated her obstinacy. Or her appreciation of life. Or both.

With a long sigh he sat down on the couch. He frowned, thinking hard, attempting to find a way forward of breaking her resolve before it was too late. After five minutes of fruitless pursuit he lay down and closed his eyes. It was quite a comfortable couch and perhaps a nap would assist in firing his synapses into a solution forming. But no sleep came and instead his thoughts turned to missing his best friend as he lay with her belongings all around him (despite their sexual encounter that was very much how he still viewed her, one type of intimate relationship did not preclude the other less intimate kind). Worry soon joined his meanderings and he fished out his phone and placed a call he wasn't supposed to be making. As he'd expected the answer message played before he spoke.

"Hey," he started. "Yes. I'm not following your orders but that can hardly come as a surprise to you, Lisbon, can it? I'm just..." His voice trailed off. Louder, "I'm just calling to say that I understand. That...that you need to do what's right for you and that I get that. I...uh...I...I just want you to know that. I don't expect or need you to call me back but I hope you're doing okay. And...and if you change your mind and all that quiet thinking time is too much for you and need someone to talk to I'm here. Call me if you want to talk. Or just want to listen to me talk. Anyway, I'll let you get back to...well, whatever it is you're up to. Um...bye, Teresa, be well."

He rolled his eyes as he hung up, hardly the smoothest call he'd ever made in his life. Then he smiled instinctively as he closed his eyes again and shifted his weight to get more comfortable, Lisbon's voice in his ear telling him to stop snooping around her things, to get off her couch and to stop worrying, to stop being so downcast. He could practically imagine her standing over him, that face she made like she was sucking on a sour candy and a foot at the ready to kick the couch (or him, some days). _"I'm not dead, Jane. Don't treat this place like a shrine you have to visit. Okay, so she outwitted you. Figure out how to get her back on side."_ He was asleep less than a minute later, a little hope restored in his heart.

* * *

 _ **Sacramento.**_

 _ **Present Day.**_

Jane entered his apartment, the unmistakable aroma of red wine and beef greeting him. Lisbon, dressed in a dark green tank top, looked up from the breakfast bar with a smile as a greeting, her hands busy chopping herbs. "Hey!" she said brightly, "How was your day?"

He glanced at the array of pots on the stove behind her. He smiled back, "Well, someone has been busy. You're extending your repertoire, are you?"

She shrugged, a rosy glow as she began chopping again. "Oh hush you, it's just a beef stew."

"Well, it smells wonderful." He peered in the pots and hummed appreciatively. "I'll be putting on weight if you keep on cooking like this, my dear."

She laughed, a lightness to its lilt that made him grin. "Go get changed, it won't be long."

* * *

Over dinner Jane filled her in on a case he'd solved that day. She nodded and laughed as he'd described his trap for the killer – a trick involving four mules, a federal judge, a tractor and an art deco lamp. "You really have Hudson at your mercy, don't you?" she said with a giggle. "For that plan to work you could have worked with two mules, not four."

"Ah!" He grinned, "But come on, Lisbon. It wouldn't have worked half as impressively now, would it?"

"It would have worked exactly half as impressively," she told him with a smile.

As she gathered their plates he got up to help. "Sit," she said, "just gonna rinse these off then stack them in the dishwasher." She reached for the kettle. "Tea?"

"Sure, thanks."

He studied her as she worked, seemingly relaxed and happy for the first time since he'd saw her again. He couldn't help but wonder if this was another act she'd adopted by way of an apology for her behaviour the last few days. It was so hard to read her and, selfishly, he was enjoying their evening so much he didn't want to think too much about it. All would be revealed in time, anyway. And he might as well enjoy the respite however long it lasted.

He brought wine glasses over to the sink and stole a glance at her as he fetched cups overhead. "Cho mentioned that he'd asked you to look at a few cold cases yesterday," he stated.

"Yeah, yeah, he did."

He paused for further explanation. When none was forthcoming he spoke again. "You didn't want to take a look?"

She shook her head with a smile. "He was just trying to be nice. Make me still feel involved, Jane."

He raised an eyebrow. "Cho doing something just to be nice? Sorry, have you met Kimball Cho?"

She tutted good naturedly, "Anyway, if you couldn't solve those cases and the team couldn't what could I offer?"

"Ah...your experience, wisdom-"

"Now _you're_ just trying to be nice. I'm okay, Jane. I don't need to do it anymore."

"Detective work, you mean."

A half shrug as she poured milk into cups.

He licked his lips. "Isn't that why you came back here?"

A sigh. "Just to catch Smith. No other case like I've told you a million times. And I'm hardly participating in the detective work much, am I? Why does it matter to you so much, anyway?"

"Because once it was your whole life. And part of me can't imagine Teresa Lisbon being happy doing anything else. I know you've grown to enjoy cooking but you can't tell me it gives you the same satisfaction as catching a killer."

Stubbornly, "Well, you're wrong."

He filled the cups up with boiling water. "Fair enough," he announced. A long pause followed, "Oh, by the way, on a completely unrelated note, Hudson has agreed to the idea you ran by Cho yesterday. The surveillance operation? He mentioned it to me this morning. Not a bad idea, especially for someone who isn't a detective."

"Oh," she said, flushing. She ignored the smirk Jane was giving her sideways. "There's a gun show soon?"

"Yes," he said. "Big one in Vegas in a couple of week's time."

"Vegas, huh?"

"Hm, yes."

"The team going?"

"Yes, of course. And you."

She looked at him in astonishment. "Me? Why?"

"Identification in case Smith shows."

"But I didn't see his face, Jane. You have the same photofit as I've seen."

"Yes, I know that, Lisbon. But you can still identify him better than any of the rest of us. He could be in disguise. Jessica Wells' body being found could make him more cautious to attend these events, he has to know there is a larger chance someone who worked for him previously has been found and that we know what he looks like now."

"So how can I help?"

"While you didn't see his face you saw how he moved, his demeanour, his quirks of behaviour. I'm confident if you spotted him in a crowd you'd be able to recognise him from afar, disguise or not."

She gaped, "Then you have a lot more confidence in my abilities than I do."

He grinned, "Well, just as well I do, isn't it?"

She rolled her eyes and took a long sip of tea. "Is it even safe for you to go back to Vegas, by the way? After all the trouble you got into there?"

"All charges were dropped if you recall."

She teased, "Oh, I'm not talking about the police charges. I'm talking about the criminals and the casinos there and whatever you're sure to have done to piss them off while you ran your...undercover operation."

Meekly, "Well, there may be a few establishments I'll need to avoid."

"I'll bet," she said under her breath as she took another sip with a small smile.

As he smiled in return they locked eyes again. Without thinking, as she went back to cradle the cup in her hand, he leaned in and kissed her softly with the gentlest peck of her lips. He withdrew quickly and drank some tea like it never happened. She blinked, her expression mystified. "What was that for?"

"Just felt like it. Problem?"

"I thought we agreed..."

"Yeah, we did." A devilish smile broke out on his face. "But it's a little hard to keep doing the right thing when you're acting quite so adorable."

"Adorable?" she repeated, horrified.

"Yeah," he shrugged. "You'll need to keep a lid on it or my decorum where such things are concerned may be tested too far."

As she opened her mouth to respond Jane's cell began to ring. "Sorry," he said, placing his tea on the countertop to fetch his phone. "Cho," he said into the receiver with a smile in her direction.

The smile vanished slowly as he listened to the call and nodded. "What's happening now? Local PD on their way to the property to check it out?"

Another nod in Lisbon's direction. She placed her cup beside Jane's, interest piqued by the turnaround in his behaviour from flirting to solemn. "All right. Yeah, we'll join you there. Send me the address. Thanks, bye."

Lisbon jutted out her chin when he didn't immediately say anything. "Well?"

All at once he sprang into action. "Yeah, we need to go. Grace got a reply to that message she sent to Smith's advertisement."

He was heading back into the bedroom to change into his suit as she trailed behind him. "Wait! What did it say?"

He turned in the corridor to face her. "GPS co-ordinates of a disused property in the suburbs. Nothing else. Local PD are there now, nothing uncovered so far. We'll meet the team there, ascertain if there's a clue or a message of some sort left there for us."

"So Smith knows Grace is a cop. He's baiting her. Baiting us. I mean, the CBI. What do you think is located there? Body dump, possibly?"

"Could be," he sighed.

"Would he lead us to that, though? There could be clues on how to find him on any bodies recovered. And even if there isn't they could help us uncover his trigger, his motivation, in all of this."

"I know. I don't know why if it is a body dump. Maybe he figures his work should be on display since we already know about Jessica Wells. Maybe he's confident there's nothing on those bodies to lead us to him. Cho's ordered cadaver dogs to take a look so we'll find out soon enough if anyone is buried there."

As he resumed his walk to his bedroom he added, "Or maybe there's something else entirely at the property he wants us to find. Or maybe this is all just a wild goose chase, could be nothing there at all."


	33. Chapter 33

Chapter 33 – Bombs

 ** _Sacramento._**

 ** _Present Day._**

Jane and Lisbon parked by the kerb and exited his car, greeted by the blinking red lights of local police vehicles surrounding the property. A young officer stood on its periphery at the end of a small driveway to keep onlookers at bay from the small one-storey dilapidated bungalow with white paint peeling off wood-clad walls and overgrown garden. The officer placed a hand before them as they went to walk up the path. "Sorry folks, police only."

Jane looked at him with amusement. "Ah, you're new. Just out of the Academy, I'm guessing? Very good. Officer...?" He squinted at his name tag. "Hall?"

"Yes, sir-"

"Patrick Jane, CBI," he smiled, holding up his laminate proudly.

He read it with a nod then turned to Lisbon. "Ma'am?"

As Lisbon opened her mouth Jane breezed past the officer, "It's okay, she's with me, Hall."

"But I need to check all identification-" the young man called after him.

"Yes, police only! Keep them lookie looks away! Carry on! You're doing a fine job, Hall!" Jane called behind him, a hand on Lisbon's back.

He whispered in her ear, "See if you weren't so stubborn and would just sign on as a consultant-"

Cho, standing at the side of the house, interrupted him with a wave as he saw them approach. "Jane. Lisbon. Over here."

"Well, no bodies," Lisbon stated as they walked across the grass.

Frowning, "How can you tell that already?"

She pointed to a cadaver dog sniffing the ground with its handler near Cho. "Because if there were-"

"-Dogs would be barking already."

"Yep," she sighed. She stomped on the earth beneath her feet. "And this ground is hard, not a good location to bury a body. Better off in the desert or in softer ground."

He glanced at her sideways. "Both fine observations for a civilian, Lisbon."

"Thanks," she replied pithily as they reached Cho.

"So, what have we got?" Jane asked him. "Apart from a lack of corpses."

His superior nodded, hands on hips. "Yeah, dogs found nothing." He nodded towards the property. "No tripwires or traps inside. As far as we can tell place hasn't been touched in years."

"So, this is what? Nothing? He's just playing with us?" Lisbon asked.

"I doubt that," Jane said. "He brought us here for something." He looked around the setting, determining no vantage points for a possible sniper that would give a killer cover. He surmised, "Well, no one is dead. Or kidnapped. No bodies...so that leaves...a message of sorts."

"Yeah, but what?"

He shrugged and clicked his tongue. Cheerfully, "Well nothing out here out of the ordinary. So my guess would be it's in the house, whatever it is. Come on, let's have a looksie." He began to walk towards it purposefully.

Lisbon smiled faintly as she watched him stride away. "Missed this, huh?" Cho asked her as her gaze lingered on the consultant's back.

She blushed faintly but admitted, "More like forgot what he's like when he gets on his hands on a mystery to figure out. Like a kid in a candy shop."

* * *

Jane and Lisbon entered the property and entered the living room that was accessed right off the front door. Techs and police milled inside shining torches at bookshelves, furniture and an array of mismatched ornaments. A layer of dust covered the entire room making the job of identifying something recently placed there mundane.

Jane looked around casually, hands in pockets. "Well, looks like they have this room covered." Lisbon noticed a door at the end of the living room. "Basement?"

Jane shrugged. "Sounds good."

As they reached it Jane gestured with his head, "Ladies first."

"You realise you're closer to being a cop than I am now, right? Shouldn't you go first?"

"Meh, but you brought your gun so ergo you should enter the dark scary basement first."

As she shook her head Jane borrowed a torch from one of the techs and they began their descent, Lisbon in front.

"Oh, god," Lisbon said quietly, a hint of nervousness in her voice.

"Local police would have already checked out the room, Lisbon. I was kidding. There's no one down here to hurt us."

She took a couple of steps. Irritated, "I know that, Jane. I'm not worried about _that_."

"Ah," he grinned a moment later. "Rats."

"Yeah. Urgh, haven't missed that part of the job for sure," she shivered.

Victoriously, "So you admit you've missed other parts of it, finally?"

"Sssh!" she gasped, a noise at the bottom of the staircase gaining her attention.

She drew her weapon and exhaled, hands shaking.

Jane whispered at her back, "Are you really going to shoot a defenceless rodent with that thing?"

She looked at the gun in her hand and then grunted as she put it away again. So long out of being in the field was making her more than a tad jumpy. And the almost constant insomnia wasn't helping any, either.

A louder shuffling noise from further back in the cellar made them stop again at the bottom of the stairs. "Hang on, on second thoughts..." Jane whispered.

"Anyone there?" called out Lisbon.

"Lisbon?" came the familiar voice back as the figure of Rigsby came out of the shadows.

"Hey guys," he said. "Place is pretty creepy, huh?"

Lisbon cleared her throat and straightened up. "You find anything?"

He pointed with his torch to a far corner away from them. "Yeah, check this out. Might be something."

They followed him through a path of storage crates and long forgotten furniture and shone their torches on a small rectangular plain mahogany box that sat on top of a circular aluminium garden table.

"No dust particles on it but a thick layer of dust all around it covering the table," Rigsby commented.

"Certainly placed here recently, then," Jane agreed. As he went to open the brass metal catch at the front Lisbon caught his hand. "Gloves, Jane!"

He sighed and rolled his eyes, extracting a white handkerchief from his inside pocket. "You really think if Smith goes to all the trouble of leaving this for us to find that he'll leave fingerprints on it we can trace? Certainly not his own. If there _are_ fingerprints they'll belong to someone he wants us to look at instead to put us off his scent."

"It's still procedure," Lisbon and Rigsby said in unison.

Jane grinned, "Wow, stereo."

"Wait!" Lisbon said again as he went to open the clasp with the cloth to his fingertips, "What if it's booby trapped? We should let the bomb squad take a look at it first."

"Really, Lisbon?" Jane sighed like a petulant child.

"She's right, Jane. We can't take the risk. Case of that size could store up to a kilo of C4," Rigsby agreed.

"Two little rays of sunshine this evening, aren't you both?"

"Sorry, buddy," Rigsby said with a shrug. "I'll give them a call, better get it checked out first. Won't be long."

"Fine," Jane said with a shake of his head.

As Rigsby made the call Jane and Lisbon searched the rest of the room, content that there was nothing further to be found that might relate to Smith's activities.

* * *

"I'm surprised," Lisbon said to Jane as they stood outside, backs to his car, waiting on the bomb squad to carry out their tests.

"That I didn't open the box anyway despite your protests?"

"Well, yes, frankly."

He shrugged. "You made a fair point. I'm not unreasonable."

She looked at him with amusement, "Yeah, since when?"

"We've both been in close proximity to too far many bombs over the years already. Luck we've remained unscathed – temporary blindness notwithstanding - only holds so far."

She raised an eyebrow. "So now you're superstitious?"

He laughed softly, "No, not that."

"What then?"

He emitted a long sigh then faced her. "For so long I didn't much care if I lived or died. I mean, yes, I had a purpose that made me want to live more than perish, obviously. But, after that, I didn't think of a future much or what it might hold for me once that was accomplished."

She blinked, surprised by his confession, "And now you-you feel differently?"

He smiled softly at her with a smile that drew colour to her cheeks. "Beginning to, yes."

A flurry of activity caught their attention at the doorway to the house and Rigsby waved them over.

"All clear by the look of it," Lisbon said as they walked towards the house again.

"Yeah, no KA-BOOM! Knew it was a waste of time," responded Jane with a smirk.

Cho and Rigsby were waiting for their arrival in the basement. Cho, wearing a pair of latex gloves, nodded to them as he placed his fingers on the clasp. It opened easily with a _creak_ and he swung the lid back.

Silence ensued upon the appearance of the small video cassette tape placed in its centre cavity with a single statement typed neatly in black on its bright white label – _Welcome back, Teresa x_

* * *

 _ **Sacramento.**_

 _ **Around eleven months earlier.**_

"Jane."

Cho stood over the brown leather couch in the bullpen and folded his arms across his chest as he was steadfastly ignored by its inert occupant.

Louder, "Jane."

The consultant moaned an irritated non-coherent response, eyes closed.

"You're burning yourself out. You need to stop."

Green eyes opened groggily and Jane rose slightly into a sitting position, back squeezed against the cushions to assess his caretaker boss' words. "Yet you just woke me from a nap. Kinda counterproductive, isn't it? If you want me to rest more, that is, Cho."

"I meant stop visiting Martins. It's been over a month now and she's told you nothing about who Red John is. She's yanking your chain. You need to let go of that lead and focus your attention elsewhere."

"Ah," Jane nodded, moving to sit up straight. "This is about Lorelei. I was wondering when you were going to bring her up."

He shrugged and got to his feet, loosened his shoulders with a long yawn. A second later his eyes were bright and he was fully alert. "We have a case, I take it? I'll meet you downstairs," he said cheerfully with a smile. He put his jacket on and exited the bullpen in silence.

Van Pelt and Cho exchanged glances. "He won't listen," she said with a shake of her head. "He's sure she's going to roll over if he keeps visiting her every week. We both know if he had his way with the visiting schedule he'd be there every day whether it takes him four hours there and four hours back or not."

Rigsby got up from his desk and grabbed his jacket. "I'm just surprised she's still alive. Was sure Red John would have had her killed by now or moved her somewhere Jane couldn't find her."

"You and me both," Cho agreed. "Jane too."

"Maybe Red John doesn't have the right connections in that facility to make either of those things happen. It's high security and he didn't kill her or release her before when she was in a similar facility," Van Pelt chipped in. "But then again she was loyal to him then, had no reason not to trust her with keeping his identity to herself. It's weird now considering her intent has obviously changed towards him."

* * *

Later that evening the team trucked back into the bullpen, another case solved - albeit without much finesse. Jane had picked up on the murdered senator's daughter as the killer from the get-go and had been ruthless in his interrogation of her, taunting her mercilessly until she'd buckled under his questioning. It could be argued the confession had been forced and that a hotshot attorney could make that case but Jane had waved off any such concern, deeming that _that_ was in the hands of the lawyers and that he had done his job, it was up to others to make the charges stick. As far as he was concerned the case was closed and had dozed off in the van slumped against the rear headrest on the way back to the CBI.

Rigsby and Van Pelt had made a hasty retreat as soon as possible thereafter, the tension between Cho and Jane all too evident as both men took up their places at desk and couch in strained silence.

"Get a search warrant for the cabin she mentioned," Jane sighed after a long two minutes, eyes closed as he lay on the couch. "If you insist on wrapping up this case in a tidy bow. Pretty sure she went there to clean up after she killed her father. There may be trace evidence still for Forensics."

Cho punched some keys on his keyboard. "Why didn't you suggest that before now?"

"It only just occurred to me."

"Because you're distracted. And exhausted."

Jane emitted a long sigh as he sat up again then got to his feet. He barked, "I'm fine. I can handle it. I'd expect this amount of nagging from Lisbon if she were around, not you, Cho."

Cho harrumphed lightly. Then, softer, "You talked to her yet?"

Quietly, "No. She asked me not to. Asked all of us if you recall not to get in contact."

Cho turned around from his screen and raised an eyebrow. "Like you'd take any notice of that."

Jane smiled lightly, simmering tension between them evaporated. "I called. Couple of times. She didn't pick up." He scratched the side of his neck with a half shrug. "Guess she's still dealing with...everything in her own way."

Cho glanced at Lisbon's office, shrouded in darkness. "She'll be back soon."

"Yeah, of course," Jane nodded, hope in his voice. "Where is she, anyway?"

Cho frowned. "How would I know?"

It was Jane's turn to shoot his colleague a look of disbelief. "Like you haven't been tracking her cell phone periodically since she took off. And probably checking her finances too – where she's using her credit card...what for...etc. You're just as worried as I am about her and her...state of mind. You wouldn't be able to help yourself check up on her any way you can."

A half shrug. "According to an ATM she used, she hit Chicago a few days ago. Guess she's visiting her family. Good, right?"

Jane teetered on his toes. "Yeah, maybe," he sighed. "Hopefully."

Cho's expression changed to amused. "If nothing else being with them for any amount of time might send her back here sooner rather than later."

Jane chuckled lightly. "Yeah, perhaps."

* * *

"Hello, Patrick," Lorelei smiled as Jane entered the prisoners' visiting room. He took a seat opposite, a clear glass partition between them, pinprick holes cut from the thick Perspex to enable a two-way conversation. A man beside him in his early thirties dressed in a black T-shirt and blue jeans gave him a strange look, the cross tattoo that covered his Adam's apple bobbing up and down as he tried to make sense of a man in a three-piece suit visiting someone in such a place. T-shirt's girlfriend, early twenties with bleached blonde hair turned black at the roots, whispered loudly to her beau, "Must be her lawyer." She half snarled and half laughed in Lorelei's direction, "Must have been screwing him good to get him to show up here. But this pretty bitch needs a priest instead of an ambulance chaser for what she's in for."

Lorelei didn't miss a beat. "Shut up if you know what's good for you, Debs. Lay one finger on me and you'll see what I'm truly capable of. Stay out of my way and I'll stay out of yours."

"Oh, sugar, stop sweet talking me and turning me on." Debs cast a lecherous glance at the brunette and then at Jane. "We all have to make do while we're in here. Am I right, Blondie?"

As Jane shifted in his chair and focused on Lorelei in place of responding, Debs began to laugh, yellow teeth on display as she turned back to her own conversation again.

"How are things?" Jane asked Lorelei quietly. "A new wingmate, I see."

Lorelei shrugged. "I can take care of myself. It's always nice to see you, Patrick. Thanks for stopping by again."

"I dropped off some of that moisturiser you use. And some chocolate. And cigarettes to trade. Some other toiletries. You should receive them later once they're sure I didn't put a file in any of them."

She nodded with a smile. "Thank you. You don't need to keep bringing me presents, though. Even if you are the one who put me in here."

"You put yourself in here. And it's in my best interests to keep any harm coming to you. Trading what you have is a useful way to get by."

"Plus you think being sweet to me is going to make me change my mind. You really think I'm going to be manipulated that easily?"

"I had hoped it would bring you to your senses if I'm being honest." He glanced at Deb sideways. He lowered his voice and leaned forward. "You won't know who he'll send to get rid of you until it's too late, Lorelei."

"Her?" she laughed. "I could break her fat neck like a twig if I wanted to."

"Eloquently put. But however skilled you are with your fists a knife will always win out."

She smirked, "You think _I_ , of all people, don't know that already?"

He sighed and leant back again. "Why are you so certain Red John isn't coming after you?"

She ran her tongue over her top lip for a second. Then, decision made, she nodded, "I guess I owe you that explanation after coming all this way to see me time and again. All right. Because he knows me, Patrick. And I know him."

Confused, "You think he's what...loyal to you or something still?"

"In a way-"

"That's ridiculous."

"No, it isn't. Listen to what I have to say. Remember, _I_ _know_ him, Patrick. You only _think_ you do. And _he_ knows me. Better than anyone _ever_ has." There was a sad wistfulness almost like longing to the lilt of her voice accompanied by a desperate urgency.

She continued, "And so...so because I've betrayed him he'll want to kill me himself for that betrayal. He won't allow anyone else to do it. What he'll want is to see the life drain out of me himself. He'll want to be the one to do it."

"I think you're assuming he cares much more about you than he actually does. You're a loose end, nothing more to him and it's time you realised that, Lorelei."

"Then why aren't I dead already, huh? Like you said, Patrick, he could have had me killed at any point during the last few weeks. But he hasn't. And now he hasn't I _know_ he won't."

When faced with Jane's continuing look of cynicism she added, "And there's another reason he won't have me killed even if you don't believe my first reason. You see it goes both ways between us, him and me. He knows I won't tell you who he is because he knows I need to kill him myself too. I don't want to use a proxy any more than he does."

Jane pondered on her explanation for a second. "That may all be true. I'm not sure that it is but the difference is you are in here and he is not. He is free and you are imprisoned. So, no matter how much you want it, you _cannot_ kill him. So perhaps you being here is punishment enough in his eyes right now. He is merely extending your sentence of death, Lorelei. He wants you to feel frustrated and alone. He's merely extending the time you have left to live and making you do so in these dire conditions before he strikes rather than making it quick and, well, relatively, painless."

She laughed. "We both know if he kills me first it will be anything but painless, Patrick." She leant forward, determination and passion as she spoke. "He'll want it to _hurt_. _Badly_. He'll want to draw it out and make it slow and excruciating. He'll cut away at me piece by piece and feast on the fear in my eyes with every slice of his blade."

A wicked smile covered her lips, cheeks flushed with what Jane could only view as arousal.

It took him a second to respond to the lurid depiction of the painful death she might endure, images of his wife and child suffering the same ordeal she described flashing before his eyes. He cleared his mind quickly, all too accustomed to compartmentalising those images when in public. He sighed, "Then maybe you're better off in here."

She smiled faintly. "We both know you're already working on a plan for my escape. Another reason you visit so regularly. To check the exits, guard rotation, possible bribery angles or exploitation, possible escape routes."

Jane huffed, "You have too much thinking time in here quite obviously."

She shook her head. Intently, "Don't lie to me, Patrick. Not like you do to the others in your life."

"Lie?"

"Of course you do. This act of yours." She pointed to his chest. "So well rehearsed. Those quirks of yours that endear you to others. Like the suits, the incessant tea drinking-"

"I happen to enjoy tea. And I also like the suits," he replied with a smile.

She smiled in return. "Ah! And that, your smile, the best tool in your box of tricks. Used to charm and disarm depending on the circumstances required. Your quirks make you seem affable and well, quite mild-mannered, really, on first impression. A better man than you think you are on the inside. Perhaps a better man than you actually are."

He grinned at her attempt to read him. Then the smile vanished. "I have no illusions about the man I am, Lorelei. And you should remember that."

"That's better," she responded. "Honesty. You owe me that if nothing else."

"I've never lied to you, have I?"

She raised an eyebrow. "Have you forgotten how we met and the gift I requested to be Red John's friend?"

"That was a deception, not a lie."

Smiling, "Semantics."

"Okay, fine. I haven't lied to you recently, have I? Not since you've been in here."

She shrugged as she studied him. "Perhaps or perhaps not. How would I know?"

Before he could respond she continued, "Can I ask you something, though? Something I've always wanted to ask you. Well, confirm, really."

"Sure. Ask away."

"You knew who I was in Vegas, didn't you? Before I told you. You knew I was Red John's friend. That's why you were in that Casino. You were waiting for me to approach you, weren't you?"

He paused and then exhaled loudly. "Yes. I noticed you watching me. You were good but you still paid me too much attention, too many lingering looks in my direction over the days before."

"Maybe I just liked how you looked?" she smiled.

He chuckled. "No. You worked as a cocktail waitress. And if that was _all_ you really were then you'd have lavished your attention and your - not inconsiderable assets – on the high rollers to gain more tips. Not on someone who looked beaten down and penniless."

"So when I came to your room that day you already knew who I was. Did you know why I was there too?"

Jane's teeth grazed his bottom lip and looked at his hands, his right hand covering his left as he twirled his wedding ring before he looked her in the eye again. "Yes."

She laughed lightly, a hollowness to its sound. "So you knew I came to offer myself to you at his behest. And you obliged. Instigated it, even. You were a willing participant?"

He licked his lips. Uncomfortably, "Yes."

She let go of a quick breath and sniffed, followed by a serene smile. "Thank you for being honest with me."

He shook his head. Glumly, "I don't require thanks for... _that_." A look of shame washed across his face.

"What we did was that disgusting to you, huh?"

Another shake of the head. "No. No, of course not-"

Her expression hardened. "Be honest. If you ever want my co-operation I won't settle for less, Patrick. I won't have another man lie to me. So, tell me, are you disgusted with yourself because of who I was or was it just because you bedded me at all? That you merely viewed me as a stepping stone to Red John and not as a person in their own right that night."

" _I_ didn't ask you to come to my room, Lorelei. That was _your_ choice."

"You say you know Red John. You really think it was my choice?"

He opened his mouth then closed it again. Then, "I'm not sure what you want me to say, Lorelei. I didn't _force_ you into doing anything you didn't want to do. _He_ did."

Calmly, "That's true. But you just admitted to me that you knew that and yet you still had sex with me. So what does that make you, Patrick? Huh? What kind of man does that make you?" She became more agitated, "Have you ever even thought about that? That you knew I was under the spell of a powerful man and yet you still slept with me?"

He blinked rapidly. "Look, we were both put in a situation-"

"No!" Her bark attracted the attention of Debs and her boyfriend and a guard behind her. "Trouble in paradise, huh?" Debs interjected, smirking.

"Shut the hell up, you whore!" Lorelei bellowed at her.

The guard came a step closer and Jane spoke up. "It's-it's fine. Really." He pleaded with Lorelei with his eyes to calm down.

"Keep it down, Martins, or no privileges," the guard told her, a woman in her late forties with a rounded figure too large for her uniform.

Lorelei breathed deeply, swallowing hard as her eyes filled with tears.

Jane said softly, "What do you want me to say? Look, you-you're right. Okay? I knew you were...troubled...or...brainwashed...or, whatever term you want to use for it. I knew. And I still did what I did. There's no excuse. At the time I thought it was my only choice and I didn't think much about your feelings or how you might feel afterwards. I saw what I wanted to see. Tunnel vision focused on getting closer to him. And a woman who seemed...fine with the...arrangement. An arrangement that benefitted each other."

She nodded and looked down. Deflated, "Well, you're right about that. He would have punished me if you _had_ rejected me."

"I'm sorry," Jane said with a low sigh. "I am sorry I was...one of the men who used you like that."

She looked up at him, a question in her eyes.

"Well, I was hardly the first man he'd offered you to, was I?"

She gazed off to the side, a sad smile of regret and pain on her lips. "You _were_ kinder than the others," she whispered.

Jane closed his eyes, disgusted with himself for being part of the same circle of men forever etched in her memory that used her as nothing but a plaything for Red John's whims.

Now Lorelei was no longer cunning vixen or seductress, or a tool for Red John to manipulate. But being free from those shackles would bring her no respite or hope for a brighter future. Her belief system had been tied to the man for years, hero worship turned to slavery to his call. Most likely it began as a gentle blurring of the lines, attention and affection showered upon her at first until she was sufficiently malleable. Then the suggestion of a kiss to make a friend feel better - a way to please him, to show him love. Instead of being jealous it would only endear her to him more. She would have been pleased, proud, even, of making him happy. Then further down the rabbit hole he would have led her, morality stripped away with the shedding of her clothes. Degradation in place of devotion. After learning of her sister's death she was adrift now weeks later, the perverse principles he'd instilled in her shattered in that moment and the true horror of the life she had led since meeting him revealed to her and leaving only shame and anger in its wake.

"I'm _so_ sorry," he said gruffly, eyes shining with sincerity.

"Then get me _out_ of here!" she begged. " _Please_."

* * *

 **A/N: I have never been so nervous in publishing a chapter as I have this one as I know Lorelei is more than a controversial topic in the Mentalist world. But I hope most of you enjoyed the chapter. Thanks again for your continuing patience as I write at a snail's pace these days and especially those who take the time to review. Most probably wouldn't still be doing this still without your kind words and motivation.  
**


	34. Chapter 34

**A/N: Very belatedly, happy 2018 to everyone.**

 **Thanks for all your comments on the last chapter. I absolutely loved the absolute plethora of responses regarding Lorelei's characterisation/motivation. There will be further discussion involving her and about her in the upcoming chapters too. (As an aside, this is not necessarily my personal viewpoint of her or of her backstory, but felt it important to write her ( & Jane's reaction) as I have for this particular story – another story it may well be different again!).**

 **Apologies I've been absent in reading updates recently but I do my best to rectify that in the coming weeks. For anyone whose stories I'm following, rest assured I haven't lost interest at all.**

 **Finally, a huge thank you to all of you who read and commented on my one-shot 'That Night with the Cabernet'. Such a positive response to something I wasn't even sure I should publish as it was mostly all a bit silly but I had a great deal of fun writing it. And to all of those asking for a sequel or a few more chapters of that one, it's a distinct possibility at some stage. But for now...back to some angst...**

* * *

Chapter 34 – Shadows

 _ **Chicago.**_

 _ **Around eleven months earlier.**_

Lisbon braced herself against the biting cold of her birthplace and tied the black raincoat she wore tighter around her waist. All those years spent in sunny California had made her almost forget how bitter the Mid West could be. If she stayed with her brother Stan much longer she'd need to invest in warmer apparel. She picked up the pace and raced up the same path she'd walked up thousands of times when she was a child.

She'd walked for hours that morning, drifting from one neighbourhood to another, in search of something she couldn't put into words. Peace? A sense of contentment? She didn't know. She'd thought coming home could help mend her somehow, that somewhere familiar would finally allow the pieces of herself to fit together like they once had. God knows why. It wasn't like Chicago was a snow globe filled with some magical fairytale scene her inner child could look at in wonderment.

And yet here she was, cooped up in the same house she grew up in with her brother and all the rambunctiousness that went along with him. Living another life with with another chaotic family unit. She really must have a screw loose. But it wasn't like they hadn't been welcoming. Her brother had held her silently when she arrived at his door but then she felt herself stiffen in his arms when he didn't make some joke at her expense as he might have done _before_ , and she felt like she would suffocate if he didn't let her go. She'd practically pushed him away to find some air. After, he'd blinked a tear away and looked to the side, his eyes downcast and body language awkward like she was a stranger as he pointed to the couch for her to sit. And Karen, her sister in law, had been especially sweet. If she were in a better frame of mind she might have enjoyed building a better relationship than the largely superficial one they had or even forming a friendship with her.

But as it was, it all felt too much and her irritation at her surroundings and at her family grew more each day. The noise, the seemingly never-ending bustle of activity, the questions, the sideways looks, the whispering, the crying of children. She'd escaped like she had that morning the three mornings prior to get some space and time on her own, and to get out of the house before her temper got the better of her and she said something she knew she would later regret.

She viewed the house again. Stan still had some remodelling to do to make it more suitable for his family but it was freshly painted with a new front door and looked, from the outside at least, very different from the home she once knew.

 _Home_. The word sounded alien as she said it in her head. Of course, Chicago had been such for many of her formative years and part of her would always see it as so but the word itself was associated with comfort and a feeling of belonging. And she hadn't thought of her birth city in those ways for a long time. Quite the reverse, in fact. It was Sacramento, her adopted home, where she'd found her footing as an adult and where she could find and run freely as her true self, unconstrained by expectations of familial responsibility, both her own and of her siblings. Now that city was tainted too and any sense of security she had once found there was gone. Still, she thought of all it had brought her: a career, her team, Jane...

She was roused from her thoughts as the shattering of glass inside could be heard as she arrived at the front door. She stopped abruptly, braced herself again as she rolled her eyes. Then, a litany of voices speaking simultaneously – her sister in law's as she berated her eldest for breaking something, Stan's as he demanded a diaper, a baby's cry, a child's scream. "Christ," Lisbon mumbled. Anger boiled up in her at lightning speed as she put the spare key she'd been given in the lock. She took a deep breath to try to dampen it down.

 _I'm lucky they're putting me up like this. They don't have the room and they haven't complained once. They even made me take my old bedroom for myself and are sleeping with two kids in theirs. And I've been no picnic to have around._

As she gave herself the stern talking to, she turned the key as the increasingly high pitched crescendo hit its peak. Like a switch had been turned all thoughts of gratitude suddenly evaporated, replaced by blind fury instead. She shoved the front door flew open and yelled at the top of her lungs, "For Christ's sake, can you all shut the hell up! The whole damn neighbourhood will hear you! Can't you keep it down for one damn second around here?!"

She pinned Stan with a piercing look, barely recognising he, along with his wife Karen, was sitting open-mouthed at her tirade. "Stan, can't you control your children for fuc-"

"Teresa!" Karen interjected. The baby in her arms squirmed and began to cry again, much louder than before. "Sshh," Karen whispered, rocking the infant while she stared at her sister in law in horror, hand around the baby's face protectively.

"T," Stan warned, standing up from the couch to face his sister. His eldest child stared at her aunt and backed away, terrified, white knuckles in mouth.

Lisbon, unable to take her eyes off her young niece as she hid behind her father's legs, suddenly shook her head with a loud gulp of regret.

 _She looks just like I used to when dad came home late from the bar. She thinks I'm going to hurt her. Oh god, what's happened to me? Is it too late? Have I really turned into him?_

Stan approached her gingerly, his expression changing from caution to concern.

"T," he repeated, gentler.

She shook her head again wildly, words stuck in her throat, tears in her eyes.

"It's okay," he said softly with arms outstretched. "C'mere."

Still, she couldn't speak, vision impaired as moisture collected in her eyes. "No," she finally let out, a long sigh after the word expressed. He took a step forward and she shook her head again. "Don't," she said, half warning, half desperate. "Just-just don't."

Before he could take another step she turned her back and ran back out the door. She didn't stop running until she made it to the cemetery.

* * *

She took a seat on the bench opposite the stone headstones placed side by side. She looked from one to the other before focussing on her mother's. Her name was chiselled out and painted black, the years of her birth and death beneath it. She was barely older than Lisbon when she had died. ' _Too young_ ' people had whispered in hushed tones around her at the time, looks of pity attached to shaking heads to Lisbon and her brothers. It was the first time she remembered feeling an anger so deep she thought it might consume her whole. First time she felt untethered, incomplete. Empty.

She took a deep breath and closed her eyes. Whether to shake the memories away or make them clearer she wasn't sure. Because with the pain of loss also came the memory of love.

As a tear rolled down her cheek she opened her eyes again and turned her attention to the matching lettering on her father's headstone. This was the first time she'd actually seen it. After his funeral, she'd never returned to this cemetery and the headstone was a later addition.

"You're not going to talk to them like they do in the movies, are you?"

She jerked as Stan took a seat beside her.

Open mouthed, "Wh-what are you doing here? How did you know where I'd be?"

He shrugged a self-satisfied smile as he rested easily with a shiver. "Jeez, Teresa, next time you decide to visit think you could make it in Summer? Colder than a polar bear's ass right now."

To her surprise, she laughed. Then her face fell. "Is-is she okay? I know I scared her-"

"Pfft. You think that's the first time she was yelled at and cussed out by someone? Yeah, she's fine. Don't worry 'bout it."

"Yeah, but I'm supposed to be the fun aunt, Stan. Not some kind of antichrist."

He turned his head to assess her fully, frowned. A long pause later, "Since when were you ever any fun? Did I miss that day?" He asked her seriously, an eager glint in his eye.

She smiled again and punched his arm. "Haha. Very funny."

He chuckled and rubbed his arm. Admiringly, "Jeez, you still pack a hell of a whack, sis."

"Thanks."

They both fell into a comfortable silence, stared at the headstones in front of them.

"How _did_ you know I'd be here?" she asked him again quietly.

"First place I come when I need to think in peace. Figured you might do the same. Is this where you've been going every day to get out of the madhouse?"

"No. First time I've come here since I arrived in Chicago. Didn't realise it but guess I've been avoiding it."

"Yeah, why?"

She shrugged. "I don't know, really." Her eyes strayed to her father's grave. _Maybe I've been avoiding_ him. _Maybe I've been avoiding facing the fact I'm the same as he was._

"You're not the same," her brother said in an unfamiliar serious tone as if he read her mind. _I really must be translucent._

He continued, "He made that choice. You didn't. And you're dealing with it best you can."

"Doesn't feel like I'm dealing with it too well right now."

"Dad would have come in fists flying. You remember what he was like when he was in a mood. You ran away to make sure you didn't. Different. See?"

"It's not that black and white, Stan."

"Why not?"

She laughed lightly but without humour. "Just isn't. And, no one actually makes a choice to become an-an addict."

"Well, I wouldn't know."

"No. But I do. Now."

Awkwardly, "What are you saying, T? You forgive the bastard for what he put us all through?"

She moved forward, studied their father's headstone. "I wish I could say that I did. But...but I do understand him better. And..."

"And?"

She turned to face him. "And it scares the hell out of me that I do."

Gruffly, "You're still not him," he repeated.

He got to his feet, stomped on the earth a few times to warm up. Cheerfully, "Now, come on. Let's get home before Karen puts an APB out on us."

She rose and touched his elbow as he turned his back. "Stan, I-I think I need to leave."

He rolled his eyes. "Don't be ridiculous. Where else are you going to go?"

"It's time for me to go back to Sacramento."

He nodded with a smile, relieved. "Oh, okay then. Sure you're ready? You're welcome to stay-"

"I know. And thank you. But I've already way outstayed my welcome. It's time to go back and face the music, see what trouble has been caused in my absence," she replied with a warm grin.

He laughed, "Time to get back and give them hell, huh?"

"Yeah," she laughed, "something like that."

As he chuckled and walked in front of her the grin on her face fell.

 _Well, guess Jane has taught me a thing or two about deception after all these years._

* * *

 _ **Sacramento.**_

 _ **Present Day.**_

"We don't know for certain it's one of _your_ tapes," Jane said as he and Lisbon drove back to the CBI. She'd been understandably subdued since the discovery in the basement.

The other members of the team were also making their way back to Headquarters so that the necessary electronic equipment could be set up to play the tape found at the disused property where Smith had led them.

"Whose else would it be, Jane?" she murmured. "Same type as those found in the white room. And the message specifically for me-"

"Hm. Yeah, an interesting development," he mused.

She searched his expression and while as inscrutable as ever at first look his hands depicted the real truth, his fingers curling tightly along the steering wheel when she mentioned the message left for her.

"I always assumed Volker had those tapes but maybe..."

"Smith could have kept copies too. Or maybe he didn't hand them all over to Volker when they acrimoniously parted ways."

"So you believe it's one of the last tapes recorded?"

He exhaled loudly, "Teresa, there's no way of knowing right now. Have some patience. All will be revealed soon enough."

They drove on silently for a few moments, mirrored frowns reflected in the windscreen.

"If it is one of yours, though...?" he asked softly.

"Will viewing it send me straight back on the road to Crazytown?" she came back with immediately.

He smiled, "Well, I would never say you were a resident of that particular neighbourhood myself but...are you sure you want to watch it? Maybe you should sit this one out."

She shrugged with a sigh. "Haven't been able to stop asking myself that question. Honestly? I-I don't know. What do you think? Should I?"

He matched her shrug and sigh with his own. "They say it helps...trauma victims, I mean. To see what happened to them with their own eyes if said trauma has been recorded by the perpetrator...to help...de-sensitise, I guess. Repeated viewing, that is. Over time it loses its power over the victim. Apparently. So I've read. But-but I don't know, Lisbon. Only you can make the call if you're ready to see something like that. Forcing it upon yourself when you're not ready, I can't see that that's the right course of action at all."

As she continued to look perplexed he added, "But let's cross that bridge when we come to it, shall we?" He nodded ahead, "Let's cross this one first, huh?"

"Yeah. Except we're coming to that bridge in about five minutes," she replied as they crossed the Jibboom Street Bridge.

* * *

"We almost set up?" Cho asked Van Pelt. Lisbon and Jane entered an interrogation room as Rigsby watched his girlfriend attend to the equipment set on the desk. Once a monitor had been plugged into the tape machine she sat down in front of it and, wearing a pair of latex gloves, removed the tape found from the evidence bag. "Should be good to go," she said, placing the tape in the device. "Just say the word."

"This isn't linked to our network in any way, right?" Cho confirmed.

"Nope. Monitor is just that so there's no Wifi, Bluetooth, Smart capability-"

"Good enough."

He crossed his arms over his chest and looked to Lisbon for confirmation to proceed.

"Go," she said quietly, taking up a position at the back wall nearest the door, ready for a quick escape. Her stomach flip-flopped uneasily as Van Pelt pressed the button to play.

On the screen, a white room came into focus. "It's the same room I was kept in," Lisbon murmured.

Jane moved nearer the screen. "Except you're not there."

"Yet. So this is the first tape, not one of the last. Place is spotless." She pointed to the left of the screen. "You can see the scrubs I was made to wear in the corner, freshly folded still."

The team continued to watch in silence, waiting for what would surely be Lisbon's dramatic entrance. After two minutes where there was no movement of any sort Jane said, "Can we fast forward?"

Van Pelt nodded and pressed a button. "Sure."

White lines appeared on screen as the scene skipped ahead but still nothing transpired.

"Is he kidding?" Lisbon grumbled. "He left us a tape with nothing on it but a recording of that damn room! How long to go, Grace?"

The redhead checked the clock counter, the tape whirring at high speed. "Five minutes left."

Cho rolled his eyes. "He's playing with us. Sent us on a wild goose chase."

"Son of a bitch," Rigsby concurred.

Jane said nothing until the tape ran to its end and the sharp click of the stop button turned the screen to black. "That's it," Van Pelt sighed.

"Have to say, doubt that movie will break any box office records. Little boring and repetitive, wouldn't you agree?" he quipped as stood upright from peering at the screen and dug his hands into his pockets.

"Well, so much for that," Lisbon sighed, visibly irritated.

"We still have the property. Might be significant," Cho remarked. "Van Pelt, in the morning check records for ownership, previous tenants, etc. Might be a reason why he sent us there specifically. Rigsby, ask around the neighbourhood, ascertain if anyone remembers anyone living there, their background, what happened to them, etc."

"Yes, boss."

"Will do."

Lisbon watched Jane keenly as he continued to view the now blank screen. "Jane? You think the tape is still somehow relevant, don't you?" she prodded.

He nodded after a pause, "Can you make me a copy to view on a flash drive, Grace?"

"Sure. But why?"

He shrugged as he addressed the room. "I-I don't know. He could have left us anything to send us on a wild goose chase as you put it, Cho. Or nothing at all. Or just that note to Lisbon. Enough to unnerve if that was his intention solely. But he left _that_ tape. There has to be a meaning behind it. Something significant we're missing."

"Or he just wants us to chase our tails," Rigsby said. "Distract us."

"You mean like a clue of some kind?" Lisbon replied to Jane. "But why?"

"Or a puzzle," Jane responded. "And-and I don't know why until I find what it is."

"How about some kind of subliminal message we can't see unless we look at it frame by frame?" Van Pelt suggested.

"Good thinking. Maybe. Can you check for that?"

"Sure."

"Okay, do that. But it might also be something else. Something visible but something we haven't noticed at first glance. I'll take a copy home. Watch it a few times. See what, if anything, there is to find."

* * *

Jane dropped his keys into the bowl by his front door after following Lisbon into his apartment. He hung up his phone with the other hand. "Well, thanks for trying anyway, Grace. Yeah, that's all, go home and get some sleep. Talk tomorrow."

"No subliminal message then, huh?" Lisbon said, walking ahead.

"Nope. Just what we saw. It was a long shot, anyway. Some night, huh?" he added, closing the door behind him and dead-bolting it.

Lisbon didn't respond, occupied with immediately setting up her laptop on the coffee table. As she switched it on she asked, "You have the drive Grace gave you? I'll look at the footage too if you don't mind, four eyes better than two, right?"

He reached into his pocket and passed it to her. "Sure. Tea?"

"Thanks."

Thirty minutes later they'd watched the footage twice. "Nothing," Lisbon whined, flopping back on the couch. "All I noticed was that it was shot in daylight so this must have been some kind of test footage before I was taken later that night or the day before. Means that we were correct in our initial assumption that Volker has all of _my_ tapes."

Jane nodded slowly with an incoherent grumble. Then he frowned and he turned to Lisbon. " _Your_ tapes."

Questioning, "Yeah. Well, it makes sense, right? Since there's no footage of me in this one-"

"Exactly!"

He grinned and started up the playback again, his enthusiasm leading Lisbon to move forward again and peer at the screen. Avidly, "What, Jane?"

"Shot in daylight you said, right?"

"Yeah." She pointed at the playback. "You see the shadow cast to the far left of the frame there? So it's during the day. By the length of the shadow cast, I'd guess...I dunno...2 or 3 pm? Right?"

"Precisely!"

Confused, "Precisely what? So it's recorded during the day, so what?"

"Look, Lisbon. Watch carefully."

He fast-forwarded the recording. "Watch the shadow."

She rolled her eyes. "It's lengthening and moving further towards the bottom of the screen. As you'd expect as the day goes on."

He spoke slowly with a smile. "Yes. Which means?"

His condescending tone made her roll her eyes again. "Jeez, Jane. Just tell me-"

She closed her mouth then and her eyes darted back to the screen. Flummoxed, "Damn. Should have seen that sooner."

He grinned triumphantly. "Voila!"

"This isn't the room I was kept in," she asserted. "The shadows could only be cast like that if there was a light source to the left of the shot."

He fished out the phone from his pocket as she continued her thought process, "The room I was kept in only had a skylight overhead. Would produce a different pattern of light and shade entirely to the room shown here."

He nodded gravely as she finished soberly, "Jane, if this is a different room...if this is a new room then it means-"

"Means he's telling us he's ready to start his process again in a new location. Fresh and clean and prepared for the next woman he takes." He dialled Cho as he added, pointing at the laptop screen, " _This_ was his message to us, Lisbon. He's issuing us with a challenge. Find the room and the woman before it's too late."

She shook her head slowly. "You're partly right. It's not a message for _us_ , Jane. It's a message for _me_."

* * *

Lisbon folded a tea towel neatly and placed it on the kitchen counter closely followed by straightening the tea caddy and a teapot. Fingers danced as she proceeded to move objects on the counter so they sat at right angles. As Jane clicked his phone shut she said, "What did Cho say?"

Jane raised an eyebrow as he watched her continue to tidy what didn't require to be tidied. "He's going to check with Missing Persons in the morning. Of course, since he doesn't have a specific type in victimology apart from them being women-"

"Then we have no idea who the hell he might take next. Or even if she'll be reported as a missing person. And if he hasn't actually been hired to abduct anyone and he just wants to have some _fun_ at our expense then he could take anyone, a vagrant-"

Firmly, "No. Not a vagrant."

She turned to face him, her hands stilling finally at her sides. "Why not?"

"Because that would be too easy for him. And impossible for us to find her in time. Well, certainly not with the information we currently have. He's issued us with a challenge. No point in doing so without giving us a fighting chance of success. He'll want to take someone with a...higher value, if you will. Someone more difficult to make disappear."

"Another cop, you mean?"

"Not necessarily. But this particular woman will have one quality that's important to him."

"Which is?"

"Strength. Not necessarily physically, but impressive strength of character. Someone with a strong will."

She looked at him questionably so he continued, "Because as you said this message was for _you_. So he'll want to take someone like you."

"But why?"

He smiled and shook his head. "You really don't know?"

A fearful expression covered her face. "Jane, if you're going to tell me this monster has some kind of sick obsessive love for me then-"

"No. Not that. At least, not love like you mean it. Not passion or...romantic love. But I feel that he admires you."

"Admires me?" she snorted in ridicule. "Please. He humiliated me."

"In the beginning, yes. He saw you as he saw everyone else he took. But then you did something extraordinary. Something he didn't expect. You resisted. Time and again. _That_ piqued his interest. He saw you as more than a mere victim, someone more than simply a person to toy with and dispose of ultimately. I suspected as much but now I'm certain. The note he left confirms it for me. From what we know of him he's either military trained or knows that world well, yes? Well, he sees you as a good soldier too. Someone willing to fight even when all hope is lost. He saved you from Volker and all the wrath he might have brought to his door because he determined you'd battled enough to earn that reprieve."

She narrowed her eyes as she listened, a slight shake of her head in disbelief at his words.

Resolutely, he added, "Lisbon, you saw that note he left. It wasn't threatening. It wasn't an ultimatum. It was almost like an...overture of sorts. Not romantic. But like he'd missed you in his life. So, by taking someone like you he's trying, in his mind, to impress you. To show you how _important_ you were to him. That he feels that connection to you still. And that he wants to feel it again. And perhaps he can achieve the same result with someone like you."

She swallowed thickly, eyes like saucers. "I think I'm going to throw up."

He took a step closer. Gently, "It's okay-"

She backed towards the counter. Loudly, "No. It's not. If you're right then this sick bastard is going to take another woman because of _me_ , Jane. Because I came back here to live this nightmare all over again."

"None of this is your fault. You can't blame yourself for whatever he might or might not do or think-"

"Really? _You're_ saying that of _all_ people?!"

He looked down and gave a half shrug. Quietly, "Learn from what I couldn't hear, Lisbon. Please. Don't walk down that path. It's a dead end, believe me."

Her shoulders slumped and she touched his forearm to make him look at her. Softly, "Say you're right about all of this. How can we stop him?" She pointed to the laptop on the coffee table. "For all we know he could already have her. Even if we discover who she is how do we find out _where_ she is? That room could be anywhere."

He pursed his lips. "True. He'll have to send us another clue in due course."

"Another tape? Shot outside the building she's kept in or something like that? Something visual we need to figure out again."

"Possibly. Or merely directions to search a large area of land in a short amount of time. Could be anything, really."

"This is sounding more and more like a trap of some sort."

"To trap who?" He looked her in the eye, saw the fear in her irises in return. Tenderly, "You're worried he might take you again, force you into addiction again?"

She nodded quickly with a lick of her lips. "You said he wanted to recreate how he felt with someone like me. What if it isn't that? What if he just wants to recreate it _with_ me?"

Worry crossed his face as he considered her statement. Then he shook his head. "No. He won't...that's not what he wants of you anymore. One, because it could never be the same as the first time. He knows you. Well, thinks he does. And two, because he couldn't inject you impassively like he did before. You've already proven your worth to him. Now he wants someone else to prove theirs."

She let out a gasp of relief, immediately followed by a look of shame.

"However," he continued soberly, "he may want to see you again, open up some kind of dialogue. That...that I could envisage."

"Well, hopefully, you're right. Because if he does then we might have found just the way to catch him."

"By making you bait? No, that will _never_ happen."

"Jane-"

"No, Lisbon."

"But you said yourself he doesn't want to inject me-"

"But what I _didn't_ say was that he doesn't want to have some other sick experience with you. I _didn't_ say he doesn't have some other plan in mind for you. So, with that in mind..."

He stepped back slightly, out of reach. "Look, don't be angry-"

Evenly, "You asked Cho to put a security detail on me."

Surprised, "Yeah, how did you-?"

"Before we left the CBI you made a point of talking to him privately. And you're not nearly as good as covering up your concern as you used to be. That note didn't just scare me. It scared you too."

"Of course it did. I was the one who urged you to come back here in the first place to face this-"

"It was my decision, in the end, Jane. And I'm not going back to Maine to hide away again no matter happens from here on in."

He smiled lightly at her determination then assessed her mood as he stared at her from head to toe. "You're not mad about the detail?"

"Depends. Were you going to tell me about it?"

"Well, I thought Cho, as team leader, really should be the one-"

He stopped talking, surprised when a glimmer of a smile broke out on her face. He matched it with a hint of shyness. "What?" he asked with uncertainty.

"Just pleased I can still invoke the fear of god in you after all these years."

He smiled more easily and rocked on his toes. "If there actually was a god then that may well be the case, my dear."


	35. Chapter 35

**A/N: Back again and life has finally returned to something far less frenetic at long last. So I'm keeping fingers crossed I'll be able to update more regularly again. Also, I haven't forgotten my other fics too for those who've asked me if I've abandoned them – I'll get back to them soon, I promise. Anyway, please excuse this chapter, still finding my sea legs again writing again after this long break. I'll also be catching up on all the stories I haven't had a chance to read in the coming days. Thanks to everyone for continuing to read and comment so generously!**

* * *

Chapter 35 - Crime, Punishment...Prevarication?

 ** _Sacramento._**

 ** _Around ten months earlier._**

"Jane?" Cho rapped on the door to the attic. "Caught a case. Come on."

Jane continued scrawling in his notebook. "Kinda busy right now, Cho. Can't you guys handle it by yourselves?"

A long pause. "Relates to a missing kid."

Jane stopped writing immediately and looked to the heavens with a shake of his head. "Damn," he sighed under his breath. Louder, "Coming," he called out in annoyance, closing his notebook, stashing it under his pillow and shucking on his jacket.

* * *

"Victim's male, thirties, ID'd as Horatio Jones," Rigsby informed Jane and Cho as they arrived at a disused factory in Oakland. "Based on the level of decomp coroner believes he's been dead two months-"

Disinterested, "Thought this was about a missing kid," Jane interrupted.

"Yeah. Getting to that." The agent grabbed an evidence bag nearby. "This remote control toy car was found here. Fairly new so-"

"Hang on. Horatio Jones did you say? The same Horatio Jones who worked as a geologist for an energy company owned by one Tommy Volker."

Cho nodded, "He was set to testify against Volker then disappeared."

"Well, looks like he's decided to show up now," Jane responded. He pointed at the car, "So, you think a child was a witness to his murder? He was playing here with what looks like a relatively new gift? Because no kid would leave something like that behind, after all."

Rigsby nodded, "Makes sense, right?"

"It does. And since there are no remains of a child found along with Jones' body your assumption is that he was discovered and removed by one of Volker's people?"

"Assuming Volker was behind Jones' murder," Cho replied.

Jane raised an eyebrow. "Well, the most likely explanation is usually the correct one, right?"

"Occam's razor."

Rigsby continued, "Yeah. So...kidnapped, right?"

Jane pursed his lips and looked around the largely empty space. "Hm. An astute observation, Agent Rigsby."

The tall agent looked pleased with himself and he added with a chuckle, "Lisbon would be pissed if she was here. She'd be practically foaming at the mouth to get another shot at Volker like this."

"Yes," Jane said without emotion. "But she isn't, is she? So no point in hypothesising on that front, is there?"

His dry tone knocked the air out of Rigsby's sails and made him look to his toes.

"So, missing child?" Jane repeated. He examined the car more closely. "Fairly new like you say and dust pattern differs from the rest of the room. I assume you investigated children missing in the area and came up with a name?"

Rigsby stuttered at Jane's clipped tone although it was hardly a shock to him after the past couple of months. Since Lisbon's departure and Lorelei's arrest he was mostly all business these days when he decided to put in an appearance around the office, increasingly more often preferring the solitude the attic provided him than his couch. "Uh, yeah, we did. Marvin Pettigrew."

"He could have been killed elsewhere even if he witnessed Jones' murder," Cho stated.

"Why?" Jane asked. "Why not kill him here than take him someplace else to do it? This place is remote enough. Whoever this was had no compunction about killing Jones in this place."

"Yeah, but..." Rigsby shook his head.

Jane nodded, "Exactly. Killing a child is different." He licked his lips. "For some people, anyway. Even some of the most seasoned killers won't cross that line."

Cho cut in, "So the kid's alive."

"Initially, yes. Now? Perhaps. Perhaps not."

"It's been two months. So where is he if he's still alive?"

"Well, that's the $64,000 question, Cho, isn't it? Look into Volker's people and their families. We might catch a break and he's with one of them." With that he turned and walked towards the exit. "I'll be in my perch once you've done that if you need further assistance."

* * *

"You get Marvin back to his mother?" Cho asked as Jane entered the bullpen and flung himself onto his leather couch a few days later.

"Yep," he smiled. It had been the best moment of any day in weeks and one he was desperately trying to hang on to. "Volker saying anything?"

"Not much. Lawyer interrupts every time we ask him a question. We can only charge him with the kidnapping."

Jane rose suddenly to a sitting position again. _Well, that feelgood feeling didn't last long_. "What?!"

"Don't have enough to pursue a conviction with anything else. He's too careful with his finances."

Rigsby added, "Not to mention too good at covering his tracks and eliminating anyone willing to testify against him."

Jane cut in, "Seriously, there's _nothing_ else we can hang on him?"

"Afraid not. We're still looking but..." Cho shrugged. "It sucks but least he's off the streets."

"For now," Jane sighed.

Rigsby commented, "Maybe he'll screw up in prison. Get on the wrong side of someone."

"Hm. Not much hope of that. Knowing him he'll end up running the place. He'll still have enough money stashed in places we can't trace to buy his way to the top of the tree in there."

Cho and Rigsby nodded, went back to staring at their screens with mirrored frowns as Jane lay down again. His thoughts turned to Lisbon as he closed his eyes, wondered if she would be happy or annoyed at the turn of events if she were there.

Words from years past echoed in his head, allowing him a faint smile. _We saved a life._

He moved suddenly and hoisted himself to his feet, "I'll see you tomorrow," he said as he exited the bullpen, barely stopping at red lights until he reached Lisbon's condo where he hoped he could find comfort or at the very least a chance to rest.

* * *

The next morning he glanced around the kitchen, enjoying the warm sun on his face the small south facing window provided as his kettle boiled. Making his first cup of tea of the day was his favourite ritual and, standing in Lisbon's kitchen, he allowed himself an imaginary thought that she was sitting in the living room just outside, legs wrapped under her on the couch as she attended to paperwork or a crossword puzzle. He smiled then, as if Lisbon would ever have the patience to work on crossword clues just for the fun of solving a puzzle. That was his domain, not hers.

He'd called her the night before, left a message that they'd caught Volker that day. He'd left the details out, hoping her curiosity would be piqued enough for her to call him back and ask for the full story. But radio silence appeared to still be the norm on that front, much to his annoyance. She'd left Chicago and was still heading East last time he'd checked in with Cho.

Still set on moving further away from them.

From _him_.

As the kettle began to whistle a quick series of loud knocks came to the front door. Frowning at the unexpected intrusion, he turned the gas off on the stove and wandered over to it. Cho appeared before him as he looked out the peep hole. He unbolted the locks and opened the door, his expression questioning.

Cho answered it immediately, "You think I didn't know you stayed here some nights?"

He walked ahead, nodded to Jane's jacket that lay on the couch he'd slept on the night before.

Jane shrugged, "Just keeping an eye on the place until she gets back, that's all."

Unconvinced, "Yeah, whatever. Why didn't you answer your phone when I called first thing?"

"I must have left it on mute. What's up that's so urgent it couldn't wait until I got to the office?"

"Lorelei Martins. She's been attacked in prison. She's in critical condition, Jane."

* * *

Jane stared at the dark haired woman in the hospital bed as she slept; the metal of the handcuff striking against the bed frame like a wind chime as she gradually came to. He'd been reminded of the day he'd waited for Lisbon to awaken in a room much like this one, not so long ago in time. He moved forward in the stiff metal chair with a sigh, pronounced purple bruises and swelling covering what was once a beautiful face.

She made an incoherent sound, eyelids attempting to open. He said nothing, hearing primed in case she called out for Red John in her drowsy state. Although slightly ashamed he wasn't about to lose an important opportunity to gain information from her. She frowned then, eventually dark brown eyes gaining focus on his face, confusion giving way to acknowledgement.

"Hey," he said softly. "Try not to move too much, you're not in great shape. Doctor said he'd be back to speak to you about the extent of your injuries and more tests they want to run."

She nodded, closed her eyes in a grimace before opening them again. "Water," she ordered weakly.

He got up immediately, put some into a beaker and brought it to her lips. She sipped, swallowing roughly, eyes trained on each other until she nodded and fell back to the pillow with a grunt.

"Yeah, pretty good number they did on me," she remarked as she stared at the ceiling.

"Was it-?"

She laughed, cutting him off, before he could continue then contorted in pain again. "It wasn't him so you might as well just go now, Patrick. Just some stupid bitches trying to earn their stripes."

"How do you know? This could be his way of getting you out of prison, getting you sent here before he sends someone to take you to him-"

"Please, just stop, will you?" she barked. "I'd _know_ if this was him. It wasn't. Okay?" She sniffed as a tear fell on her cheek and she took a deep breath. "So just go and leave me alone."

He sat back on the chair again, left it a moment before he spoke again. "I'll stay a while if you don't mind."

"Whatever."

With that she closed her eyes again and drifted back to oblivion.

* * *

 ** _Sacramento._**

 ** _Present Day._**

"So, Missing Persons?" Jane asked as the team sans Rigsby assembled in the bullpen the following morning.

Van Pelt spoke up. "I checked with them this morning and there are two women who might fit the profile you suggested. They both went missing within the Sacramento area within the last week."

"Details?" Cho asked.

"Sue Chambers. Thirty-five. Highly esteemed businesswoman and marathon runner, came in a highly respectable forty third in the last one held here. She ran for a breast cancer charity in honour of her sister who died from it last year. Lost forty pounds in the process according to the detective in SCPD who's working the case. She said there were no signs of any altercation at home that may have led to her disappearance or financial issues."

"Sounds like a candidate," Jane replied. "Strong. Wilful. Good at perseverance in times of adversity and someone of high morals." He looked sideways at Lisbon, a teasing smile in his eyes, "Apart from the last one those personality traits sound like you, Lisbon."

Lisbon blushed and rolled her eyes. She focused on Van Pelt, "She sounds more like a saint than she does me."

Cho chipped in, "In your opinion. Far as I'm concerned she's a viable candidate. Who else, Van Pelt?"

"Emma Davis. Twenty-eight. Graduated with Distinction at Stanford in Law. Headhunted by most of the top Law Firms in California and by all accounts is likely to make partner at the one she selected within the next five years if not sooner. Superior yachtie and horsewoman. There's talk of her qualifying for the Olympics-"

"No, not her," Jane interrupted.

"No," Lisbon agreed.

Van Pelt frowned, "But why? She's strong, obviously. Smart. Resourceful-"

"And very rich, I'm guessing," Lisbon replied.

"So?"

Jane smiled, "All of what you're saying is true, Grace. But she's been born into a life of privilege. And I'm not saying there's anything wrong with that. Nor am I saying her accomplishments don't mean as much or that she attained them easily. But if Smith is focused on finding someone more like Lisbon then Emma Davis isn't her." He glanced at Lisbon. "No offence."

She quirked an eyebrow. "None taken."

Cho said, "Okay, then we focus on Sue Chambers. Van Pelt, go talk to Missing Persons, check any security footage they have of her last whereabouts, any leads they're looking into, talk to her colleagues, family. I'll give them a call, inform them we have special interest in the case and to expect you."

Jane said, "I'll go with Grace. If her disappearance isn't related to Smith better we know sooner than later so we can look further afield."

Cho said to Lisbon, "You're welcome to go along."

She shook her head. "No, there's no point. I don't see what value I can add. Is there an update from Rigsby? Anything show up at the property where the tape was left?"

"He checked in first thing. Neighbours he's talked to say it hasn't been occupied in years but he's still canvassing door to door. Property belongs to a man named John Lanson who lives in Europe now. Last number we have for him was disconnected in 2010 so we don't have current information. I'm waiting back on a call from British authorities. With the time difference it may take a few more hours."

"If Rigsby has ground to cover I-I could help," Lisbon offered. "I mean, if that's okay."

"Sure, no problem. I'll assign you a vehicle from the pool. Call Rigsby when you're on the road."

* * *

Jane glanced out the side window of the black SUV as Van Pelt drove to the company owned by Sue Chambers, a software company that specialised in data storage. He'd drifted in and out of the conversation as Grace had relayed its exact workings, gently humming along in apparent agreement as and when required as she went on.

"So, you must be in a good mood?" Van Pelt said after a few seconds of silence.

"Oh, why so?"

She smiled, "Because I've just spoken for ten minutes about software and you haven't interrupted me once with a snarky comment or changed topic."

He turned his head to grin at her. "Sorry, Grace, did you say something?"

She rolled her eyes and snorted a laugh. "Fair enough. So...um..."

He murmured, "Uh-oh, here we go," still smiling.

"Here we go what?"

"Remarkable self control for you not to ask me about living with Lisbon thus far, Grace. I'm proud of you for only giving into the impulse now."

"Oh hush. I'm just curious how it's going with her. Must be a little strange for you both, right?"

When he didn't respond again and only relaxed his posture further then closed his eyes, head back against the headrest, she finally tutted. "So?"

Eyes remained closed as a smirk made its appearance. "So what?"

"So, how are you both getting along?"

"Fine."

"That's it?! That's all you're going to tell me?"

Smugly, "Yep."

She exhaled loudly. "Look, I'm not being nosy-"

"You're not?" He faced her again with an eyebrow raised. "Sure sounds like it to me," he responded with good nature.

"Okay," she agreed, "Maybe I am. A _bit_. But I'm not just asking for nosiness sake."

"Oh," he nodded. "You want to give me the wisdom of your sage advice, is that it?"

To her credit she kept her tone calm in the midst of his taunting. "Look, Jane, I know _just_ how much you missed her. Don't pretend like this isn't a big deal having her back in your life again."

He licked his lips, dropped the condescension in his tone. "I never stated otherwise."

"I don't want either of you to screw this opportunity up, that's all. So if you need an ear...you know, or a-a woman's perspective on anything-"

He chuckled, "That's rather sexist, isn't it?"

"Why?!"

"Because you and Lisbon are indeed both women. But you're hardly all that alike all that much, are you? And besides that, what exactly do you mean by _opportunity_?"

"You _know_ what I mean."

"Of course I do but I want to hear you say it," he smiled.

A smirk made its way across her face. "Fine. I'll say it. You're in love with her. What are you going to do about it?"

Astonished by her forthrightness he gaped momentarily. Then, recovering quickly, "You taking an assertiveness training class or something these days, Grace?"

"Don't change the subject."

He feigned confusion, eyes on the scenery beside him once more. "Hm?"

She rolled her eyes. "God, you're annoying. Well, whatever you say or don't say we both know I'm right. I've witnessed how you've been this past year and how you're acting now she's back."

Caught between curious of her perception of his behaviour and hopeful she'd drop the matter his inquisitiveness eventually won out. "How so?"

"Put simply? You've been sad. Both before Red John and after him. After, you tried to make us believe that you were happier but I saw it sometimes. When you thought no one was watching you'd go off someplace else in your head and your eyes would wander to Cho's office. Well, Lisbon's office as we all still think of it. But now she's back you're...less sad. _Actually_ happier. Hopeful, even."

Before he could speak she added as continued to speak as she faced forward, "Don't deny it."

They drove on in silence.

* * *

A steel table greeted her when Lisbon entered the room, two matching chairs bolted to the floor either side of it. Drab grey walls only added to the goosebumps on her skin as she took a seat at the table. She scratched her neck then her fingers automatically continued trailing down the opposite arm, continued scratching at now nonexistent track marks.

She stopped immediately when the door at the back of the room opened with a loud metal creak that sounded like a cat being tortured. She sat upright, frantically trying to compose herself into a picture of calm assurance. There was a time this process came naturally to her, when the mere opening of a door to interrogate someone could flip a switch in her to tune her senses razor sharp and focus her mind solely on the task at hand.

A burly guard entered first, bearded with eyes like coal, barely recognising her as a person at all as he grunted in her general direction. Tommy Volker trailed after him, handcuffed. He raised an eyebrow at her presence at the prison, a smirk where a smile might have been. She glanced at the handcuffs, pleased she could manage a smirk back.

"Handcuff him to the table," she ordered the guard, eyes on the metal rails imbedded on the steel top.

"He's not high threat-"

"It's fine, Ben," Volker said smoothly with a smile, offering his cuffs to the guard. "Ms Lisbon here is a little scared of me. For what reason I can't imagine."

He grinned as he watched her react to his taunts, the telltale pursing of her lips as she exhaled slowly through her nose to keep her temper in check.

After he was cuffed to the table and Ben had exited the room Volker sat back in his chair. "Better now? Although I really have no desire to hurt you, Teresa."

She scoffed, "Sure you don't."

"I really _don't_. Maybe once but now...now I've had time to think while I've been in here, to reflect on some of my past...misdeeds."

"Oh please, save the reformed man routine for the parole board, Volker."

"It's true, Teresa."

"So you're saying kidnapping me and torturing me was a mistake?!"

He smiled faintly. "Are you here to gain my confession for that, Teresa? I've never admitted to doing any such thing."

"It's just you and me, Volker. You _really_ don't want to tell me? Because I think you do. I _know_ you do. You want me to be certain that _I_ know _you_ are to blame. It must be killing your ego for me to have even a shred of doubt."

"Ah, but you see you don't, do you? I can see it in your eyes, Teresa. I don't have to tell you a thing because you already believe it one hundred per cent. So, if that's why you're here I'm afraid you've had a wasted journey-"

"It's not."

He turned his tone genial and moved forward. "Ah, so this is about the note-"

"No," she cut in roughly. "I'm not here to talk about that either."

Soothingly, "You really should talk to someone about that, Teresa. Because you haven't, have you? And holding it in will only eat you up and stop you from moving forward-"

"I'm here to talk about Smith. _Absolutely nothing_ else."

He sighed, "Smith?"

"Your partner in crime, remember? Obviously, you probably know his real name. Care to share it? You know, since supposedly you're a new man full of contrition now, right?"

He laughed faintly. "If I knew who you were talking about then of course I would."

"We already have Medina's testimony against you for your part in my kidnapping."

Confidently, "I've spoken to my lawyers. I doubt you have enough to get charges brought on that alone."

"Fine. Scratch that, then. What I don't understand is why are you protecting Smith or whatever the hell his name is? He's out there doing whatever he wants and you're in here. _He_ allowed me to escape and broke whatever deal you two had. He went against you. You don't want to get him back for that? You tell us everything you know about him that will help us catch him then you could be free this time next week."

His eyes turned to slits. "And how would _you_ feel about that? I have to say I'm surprised you're the one who's pushing for my testimony."

She raised an eyebrow and responded calmly, "Well, like you said, _you_ don't want to hurt me now, right? So why would I have a problem? It stops Smith, that's what's important right now. And besides, you'll screw up again, you'll be back in here soon enough. Or wind up dead. Either suits me fine."

"Is that a threat?"

She shook her head. Innocently, "Course not. You said you didn't want to hurt me anymore and never did so what possible reason would I have to threaten you?"

He assessed her coolly then chuckled, "I'm pleased we're finally having a proper conversation, Teresa. I have missed getting under your skin."

"Yeah? And here I was thinking it was the other way round."

He grinned at her. "You're quite remarkable, you know that, Teresa? To have weathered what you went through-"

"You mean what _you_ put me though?"

His smile dropped, feigned concern covering his expression. "I wasn't talking about that-"

Angrily, "Are you going to help me or not with Smith, Volker? Or maybe you just don't know how to help. He got the better of you, didn't he or you'd have punished him yourself by now?"

"Trying some reverse psychology on me? Please, Teresa, you're better than that."

She moved back in her chair and crossed her arms. She scoffed, "No. I'm better than _this_. Because _this_ is quite obviously a waste of my time."

Lisbon got up and shook her head at the bearded man across from her. "You were right about one thing though. I was afraid coming here and facing you again. I wasn't sure how I'd react. But now-now I realise how little you mean to me. That what you put me through matters less and less."

She turned to leave and he called to her. "Teresa, wait!"

Dispassionately, "No, I don't think I will. I've wasted enough of my life in your company and thinking about you."

She waved through the window for a guard to allow her to exit.

"He's taken someone else, hasn't he? That's why you're here."

She rolled her eyes and faced him. "You wouldn't need to be Sherlock Holmes to figure that out, would you? Why else would I be here? Certainly not for your scintillating company."

He hesitated, teeth gnawing at his bottom lip.

"If you have something helpful to say this is your last chance, Volker. I won't be back."

He relaxed and spoke casually, "Tell me, have you ever been to Bakersfield, Teresa?"

"Bakersfield? Of course I have. Quit talking in riddles. Why is Bakersfield significant in relation to Smith?"

"I'd like a trip there at some point soon. There's little town northwest of there that you may find interesting too. Well, not a town, really. More like a small hamlet, if you will."

Exasperated, "Okay, I'll bite. What's its name?"

He grinned knowingly. "Have a look at a map. I believe you'll know it when you see it."

A guard opened the door next to Lisbon. "Ready, ma'am?"

As she frowned at Volker and then the guard Volker added, "I'll see you soon, Teresa. Perhaps we can have that lunch together after all."

* * *

Lisbon shuffled out with her mind whirring, her phone out of her pocket to find an online map as soon as the daylight hit her upon her exit.

"Nice visit?"

Jane's voice stirred her out of her investigations. He raised an eyebrow as he relaxed against his car, head tilted to the side, a silent 'gotcha!' in his expression.

She gaped at him momentarily then marched over to him. "I wasn't going to hide this from you before you start."

Unconvinced, "No?"

"No. Look, I went to help out Rigsby with canvassing like I said I would but he was mostly done by the time I got there and there were no leads of any significance. So I decided to try Volker again. And I didn't tell you because I know what you would have said – that it was nothing but a waste of time."

"Is that the only reason you didn't tell me? You sure you didn't tell me because you know I'd have insisted on coming with you and then you wouldn't have had the privacy to talk about whatever he wrote down-"

"No!" She took a breath. "No. I don't want to discuss that with him or anyone else. And e _specially_ not him."

"Or me, it seems."

"Please, Jane, let that go. You promised you would. At least until we find Smith."

Visibly irritated he shrugged in defeat. "Fine."

"So, how did you and Van Pelt go? Sue Chambers?"

He shook his head. "It was a bust. Went to her company and it's obvious the managing partner is hiding something in relation to her disappearance. Put a couple of breadcrumbs out there to make him sweat overnight so we'll circle back in the morning and see if he's more talkative. Anyway, whatever it is, Smith doesn't have her. I'm certain of that."

"Damn. So what now?"

"Cho suggested we look further afield for missing persons. We don't know if he's dead set on Sacramento as his base. He may well operate elsewhere within the State too."

"Funny you should mention that." She dug out her phone again. "Volker actually mentioned something-"

"Whatever he mentioned it's a manipulation."

"Maybe. Probably. But it's worth a shot, isn't it?" She spoke as she moved to stand beside him and scanned the screen, fingers working to pan in and out of a map Bakersfield. He looked over her shoulder. "He spoke of Bakersfield? Why?"

"Don't know, he didn't say exactly. Hmm. And well, no. Close to it though. Said I'd know it when I saw it. He said there's a small town...well, smaller than- Oh! Here's something!"

"Smith Corner?" Jane's gaze travelled to the spot she'd zoomed in on.

Hopeful, "Can't be a coincidence, can it?" she said.

"That Volker is using that name in particular to lure you into whatever game he wants to play with you now? Nope, it cannot."

"I saw him, Jane. I-I think he was giving me something. I mean, why would he lie to me about this?-"

"Ah...he's Volker, he's a sociopath and he loves messing with you?"

"I think it's worth checking this place out. It's tiny, won't take long door to door."

"Lisbon, this is _exactly_ what I warned you about, remember? He'll lead you wherever he wants just to play with you. He's a sick son of a bitch."

"Yeah, I am aware! And yes, you are probably correct. But I can't _not_ check it out. And I don't think you'd be able to let this go either if you were me. We have nothing else to work on right now so where's the harm?"

He put his hands up in surrender. "Damn it, woman. Okay, but I'm going with you. No more lone wolf, you hear me?"

She smiled sweetly, "Okay, boss."


End file.
